Would Ya Swear You Wont Forget Me?
by mush14meyers
Summary: Keira comes from Ireland to America when she's young and is left alone on the streets of New York City. Several years later, she finds out that the Newsies were a part of her past.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie "Newsies."

So I'm back with a new fanfiction, as promised :) This is one of my later stories, so I just finished it recently. It starts off kind of slow, but I promise it gets a little more interesting as you keep reading. I'm going to try and update this whole story pretty quickly, so I may be posting 1-2 a day. I'm not sure why, but everyone tells me it's really different from the rest of my fanfictions.

I hope you enjoy it :D

--START--

We had run out of firewood, which made the apartment unbearably cold. My brother and I had helped my mother knock down the closet door that morning. After that was made into ashes, we had nothing left to burn.

We had nothing at all. Our small one room apartment was empty, except for a one person bed that both my brother and I slept on. For the past week, someone kept knocking at the door. My mother would warn us to keep quiet and pretend we weren't there. Soon the knocks on the door became more frequent, until it was almost every day. My mother would pull us into the corner of the room and huddle together close to the ground where we couldn't be seen. She prayed under her breath and shielded our ears when the man came to our door. But I heard everything and so did my brother, Nolan.

We were given threats. He yelled things through the door, telling us he knew we were there. Still, my mother whispered to us not to make a sound. He warned us angrily about the money we owed him, and made threats about eviction. Back that, I didn't know what that was. We soon heard him leave, and we were allowed to get up from the corner of the room.

We shared the little food we could get. My mother tucked us in that night with growling stomachs. She slept across the room with nothing but a blanket between her and the floor. When she thought I was asleep, I could hear her crying. She cried for us, her children. She cared about us, but there was nothing she could do. We were dirt poor with nothing to gain in Ireland.

That night I was woken up quickly and pulled from my bed. She whispered for us to be as silent as we could. My mother had us stand in the middle of the room. I remember looking at her tear-streaked face and being terrified and confused, unsure about what was happening.

I clutched my doll close to me as my mother scurried around, collecting all the money she had salvaged, which turned out to be very little. A knock came at the door, loud, angry, and persistent. She had started to sob now. She hurried us to the window of our ground-floor apartment. She helped us through and finally climbed out herself.

When we were out, my mother took both Nolan and I by the hand and pulled us along as she ran. We traveled quickly through the small deserted town. Even when we were miles away, she kept going, dragging us behind her and telling us we only had a little farther to go.

Hours added up until daylight finally broke. Sometime near sunrise we got there. The ship was bigger than anything I had ever seen in my life. The metal hull sat steadily in the dark blue water.

My mother emptied out her pockets on a desk near the boarding plank of the boat. The man sitting behind the desk counted out the money. There wasn't much, and I searched the man's face for any trace of sympathy. He sighed and asked my mother to sign our names in a large book. When she was finished, he pointed over his shoulder at the boat.

We walked hastily up the narrow wooden plank, and found that the boat was swarming with other people. Many of them looked as poor as us. With one hand I held my doll, and with the other I clutched my mother's dress. Before the boat began moving, we were forced below deck.

That's when I got my first glimpse of the place that was going to be my home for the next month. The air was stale and musty. It was nothing but a huge wooden chamber. From the floor to the ceiling was no more than 4 feet in height. Pushed into the corners of the walls were blankets, mattresses, and few pillows.

The room became more and more cramped as more people crowded into it. One of the workers on the ship came down and hushed everyone. He quickly went through the guidelines of the ship. The voyage could take anywhere from four to seven weeks and we were expected to stay below deck for most of it. We would receive a single blanket per person and one meal a day.

At first it seemed impossible to live like this. I had gone without food for longer than a day before, but never without sunlight. The steerage of the ship where all the immigrants stayed was dark, dirty, and overcrowded. Still, we seemed to be doing alright until our fourth week at sea.

My mother had started to get ill. I had seen her ill before, from the rocking of the waves on the boat, but it wasn't like that this time. She was too weak to get up from her blanket on the floor. Quite often she would have coughing fits, which resulted in her spitting up blood. Many other people seemed to have this disease also, and it spread quickly because of the conditions in the boat. It was a miracle my brother and I didn't catch it.

Late at night, the sound of a sick crying baby from another family woke me up. I curled up in my thin blanket and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. My mother was awake, also. I heard her coughing violently and crawled over to see if she was alright.

She smiled weakly at me as I kneeled by her side. She took my hand in hers. "Keira..." She whispered. Her voice was dry and raspy. "You stay near your brother, Alright? Don't ever leave his side, now... The two of you will like it in America. I promise."

"What about you?" I asked. "You'll like it there, too... Won't you, Mama?" My mother smiled again, but avoided my question. "Want to know what I heard, Keira? I heard in America, everything's different... There's skyscrapers to farmhouses, and Italians to Irish all in the same country. There's jobs everywhere for people like us, and places to live and schools to learn in..." I fell asleep to the sound of my mother telling me about how my new life was going to be.

The next morning, when I woke up she was gone. Nolan was sitting near me, looking terrible. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, and he looked almost sick with grief. "Kiera... Mama's gone." He told me. "She died during the night, and a sailor took her upstairs so nobody else would catch what she had..." He explained. I found out later that her body was thrown overboard to prevent more disease on the ship.

That day we arrived in America. The ship was a mess of disorder when it stopped. We were told to stay with our families and move quickly up to the deck. The dock was swarming with immigrants. Not only Irish people, but all different nationalities.

The wind that blew across the deck was freezing. I wrapped my thin coat closer around my body. My brother held onto my arm as we fought to stay together in the crowd. Once we were off the ship, people pointed us in different directions. We were asked questions about our names and where we were from. Nolan and I were asked where our baggage was, and when we replied that we had none we were told to move on.

Someone suddenly pulled my brother aside. "This one looks sick." An American man said. They began to examine his bloodshot eyes. Nolan struggled to get out of their grip. "I'm not! I'm not sick!" He yelled. The man sighed. "Seems a bit insane, too. The long trip must've done it to him... better keep this one behind for inspection." He wrote a large X on Nolan's back in chalk.

I cried, trying to fight my way to my brother. But someone held me back. I was pulled by the arm to a smaller boat that left Ellis Island and headed towards New York. The boat moved away from the land before I could jump off. After about an hour, the small boat deboarded and I was left by myself.

------

After days of searching for Nolan, I had somehow walked into the heart of New York City. I didn't have a clue where I was, nor how I was going to survive. I hadn't slept in a few nights for fear of sleeping on the streets unsheltered.

It had started to snow heavily and the winds picked up. The ice cut and stung my face, while the rest of my body was numb from the cold. I couldn't walk anymore. I just needed to sit for a few minutes... Choosing the closest doorstep, I collapsed on the stairs and everything went black.

-----------

Four young boys, none of them older than thirteen, exited the lodging house. Running late, they rushed outside to get to the circulation desk before all the newspapers sold out.

"Ow!" One of them exclaimed, tumbling down the few stairs leading to the door. He put his hand on his forehead, above his brown eye patch, and groaned. "Jeez, Blink..." The oldest said, offering a hand to help him up. "Do ya gotta fall everywhere ya go?" he asked.

"Blink" stood up quickly. "No... It wasn't me dat time... somethin's under there..." The oldest boy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Blink, let's just go before dere's no more papes, alright?"

"Skittery!" He exclaimed. "I'm serious!" Blink climbed the stairs and began digging in the snow on the stoop. The three other boys found he was right. A girl, no older than 10, was lying under the snow with her eyes closed. Her skin was almost tinted blue from the cold.

The boys gaped at her, unsure of what to do. Skittery shook his head to free himself from the daze he was in. He hurried towards the unconscious girl. "Ya think she's dead?" Blink asked. "'Couse not, stupid... She's breathin'. " The shortest out of the group responded. He was only eleven and had a cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth.

"Race, Blink! Stop ya yappin' 'nd help me get her inside!" The two boys ran over, but one was still staring at the girl terrified. "Mush! You too!" Skittery said. Mush nodded slowly, his mouth still a little open, and went to help the rest of the guys.

------------

"Well, ya skin's back to normal color. Dat's a good start." An old man was kneeling over me, placing a boiling hot wet rag over my forehead. He had on round glasses and a hat. I didn't recognize him at all. The last thing I could remember was the harsh snow and wind. I had somehow gotten inside.

I immediately sat up, making the old man jump back. "Woah, settle down, there. I ain't gonna hoit ya." I looked around the large wooden room. It had a few pieces of furniture and a fireplace. My doll was propped up in a sitting position against the couch.

He saw what I was looking at and handed it to me. "You was holdin' it when da boys found ya." He explained. "What boys?" I asked, surprised at how weak my voice was.

"Da boys dat live heah. A few of 'em found ya outside on da stoop. They're upstairs, if ya wanna meet ya saviors." He suggested, smiling. I shook my head quickly from side to side. "I can't... I have to find Nolan." I said, standing up. "And who's Nolan?" He asked patiently.

"My brother." I replied. "We got separated." The old man nodded understandingly. "You'se can leave in da mornin'. But right now it's dark out, 'nd poisinally I don't think you'se in da best state of health at da moment."

He led me up the staircase and I reluctantly followed. "The boys are nice... Well, most of 'em anyway." He mumbled the last part under his breath. I could hear the loud talking and laughing before he even opened the door.

He stood in the doorway and I stood behind him. "Hey, Kloppman... How's da goil doin'?" I heard one of them ask. "See for yaself, Skittery." He replied, stepping aside.

---------

I stepped in, somewhat frightened of the loud boys. "Skitt, Mush, Racetrack, Blink... C'mere!" Kloppman called. One by one, they looked up and assembled near Kloppman and me.

"Dese are da guys dat found ya." He said, introducing me to them individually. Skittery was the oldest by far. He looked around 13 or 14 and was pretty tall. Blink had an eye patch over his left eye and carried a wide grin on his face. Racetrack was the shortest, but you could tell by the way he carried himself that he was tough.

My eyes lingered on Mush for a while. He seemed almost scared of me. His hands were deep in his pockets as he stared down at his shifting feet. His hair was brown beneath his newsboy hat. When he looked up at me for a split second, I saw that he had dark innocent eyes. As the boys greeted me, Mush said nothing. Kloppman excused the boys and showed me my bed.

"Dis is where ya can sleep tonight. I'se sorry I don't have a separate room for ya, but I can assure ya da boys won't trouble ya. 'nd if they do, jus' tell me. I'll be right downstairs in da office." Kloppman left me sitting on my bed.

I clutched my doll close to me and kept my head down. Two people approached my bed. Glancing up quickly, I saw it was Mush and Racetrack. Race mumbled something to Mush and pushed him in my direction. He looked up at Race with pleading eyes, but Racetrack just whispered, "go!" and walked away.

Sighing, Mush sat down on a bunk next to mine. I kept looking down at my doll and pretended not to hear anything that just went on between the two boys. "I like your doll..." Mush said sheepishly. I looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks. Her name's Tara." I replied.

Mush looked at me and blushed. "Oh... what's _your_ name?" He asked. "Keira." I said. "You're Mush, right?" He nodded. "Ya don't look old enough to be by yourself... Why were ya alone outside?" he asked.

"I'm not old enough. I'm only 8. I was looking for my brother, Nolan. He's 12 and he's supposed to take care of me, but we got split up." I told him. "Maybe he's at da orphanage." Mush suggested. "Dere's a few near heah... Maybe he's dere lookin' for you."

Mush could be right. I wanted to leave right then to look for him, but Kloppman already said I had to stay. I would wait until everyone was asleep.

I could see the silence was making Mush fidgety again. "How old are you?" I asked. "9." He replied quickly. The other boys started coming over to my bunk and crowding around us.

"Aww, look at dat. Mush has got himself a goilfriend." One teased. He was a few years older than us and was wearing glasses. "No I don't!" Mush replied quickly, turning red in the face.

Another boy, who was close to fifteen, took Mush's hat and held it above him so he couldn't reach. "Give it back to him!" I said, sitting up. The room grew quieter as soon as they heard me speak.

"What's wit her accent?" One asked.

"She's Scottish, stupid."

"I'm not Scottish! I'm Irish..." I replied. Still, they kept talking.

"She sounds like she's right off da boat."

"Are ya an iminagrant?"

"It's pronounced immigrant, dumb-ass."

"I ain't a dumb-ass!"

"A'right, a'right boys... settle down." Kloppman appeared at the door. "Snoddy, give Mush back his hat." Kloppman ordered in a bored tone, as if it was something he had to tell them daily. "Da rest of ya, off to bed. Early mornin' tomorrow... Gotta sell papes." He said. The guys groaned and went off to washroom to get ready for bed.

Once everyone was in their bunks, the noise died down until everything was silent. I waited an hour or so, trying hard to keep myself awake. Once I was sure everyone was asleep, I slipped out of the bunkroom and down the stairs. Unknowingly, I left my doll lying on the bed.

Even though the snow had stopped, the air was still freezing. Still, I didn't turn back, determined to find Nolan. I would search all the orphanages in New York City if there was even a small chance he was there. Scared and lost, I reached into the front pocket of my tattered dress for my doll. By the time I figured out I had left it behind, I was too far to turn back.

-------------

Please review if you have comments or criticism

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the movie "Newsies"

Hiya. Thanks to the people who reviewed :) And, uh... Yeah, that's all I really have to say haha.

**Alright. I know it really doesn't matter much now, but when I posted this story I made a HUGE mistake. I couldn't find out why everyone was so confused in the beginning, and it turns out I missed a very long and important chapter while updating. I'm really sorry for this. Anyway, I added it to the beginning of this chapter, so everything should make sense now.**

--START—

"I'm sorry Miss McKennan... But we're just not looking for work right now." He looked at my ripped dirty clothes and turned away to take the bread out of the oven. I slammed my hand down on the counter out of frustration. "Really? Because da sign on the window seems to say different."

The baker, unsure how to respond, ignored my statement. "Have you tried looking for work at the factories?" he asked. "Almost every single one in New York City." I replied. "They won't take me."

"Well, I don't blame them. Not with that attitude of yours, anyway. That's why I refuse to hire you. You'll scare away my customers with a temper like that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He said, walking towards the cash register. I followed him along the counter and stood in front of the register.

"No... The factories didn't hire me because they had no more spots left. And you hiring me has nothing to do with my temper. It's got everything to do wit the fact that I'm dirt poor and homeless, don't it? And the fact that I'm a girl doesn't help da matter, either."

I was starting to get angry, but so was the baker. "Miss... If you do not leave my shop, I will be forced to call the authorities to escort you out." He demanded. I narrowed my eyes at him, but accepted the fact that I had been defeated. "Go ahead 'nd call the bulls... I ain't afraid of 'em..." I mumbled under my breath. Still, I turned to leave the store.

I sat on the bottom step of one of the apartment buildings. With my head in my hands I watched the people of New York City hurry by. _This is so unfair...People refuse to hire me because I'm poor and homeless, but if someone would just give me a job I wouldn't be poor and homeless anymore... _

I was broken out of my thoughts when something fell to the ground in front of me. A little girl, somewhere around 5 years old, had dropped her doll. I could tell she was rich by the clothes her and her mother were wearing. They both had on beautiful dresses that puffed out at the waist and touched the ground. The little girl's was a light pink color.

"Wait! You dropped your doll!" I called after her. She couldn't hear me over the sound of the noisy streets. I looked down at the doll. It reminded me of one I used to have... about 6 or 7 years ago. I stared at it and picked it up, mesmerized. There were very few things I remembered about that long ago. But my doll was one of the things I remembered clearly. Her name was Tara and she used to be my most prized possession. _What ever happened to that thing?_ I thought. I couldn't remember...

Since then, I had gotten a new prized possession. Quite honestly, it was the only thing I owned besides the clothes on my back. It was my journal. Nothing but a small brown book, it had blank pages that I would fill with my thoughts and ideas. Writing had become a hobby of mine, since I had a lot of free time to kill out on the streets. It helped me to keep my mind off the hunger or the cold.

"Hey! That's my doll!" The girl said, suddenly at my side. She grabbed the doll out of my hands, making me realize I was still staring at it. "Oh, I'm sor-" I started to say, but the girl's mother had already started screaming. "Theif!" She pointed a finger at me and yelled. "She stole from us! She's a thief!"

"Oh crap." I muttered. A policeman nearby heard the commotion and the sound of a shrill whistle filled the air. My legs told me to run, but my brain fought it. _No... Stay put. If you run you'll get in even more trouble..._ I told myself.

_I can just explain what happened to the bulls, and... Oh god, what am I thinking? They won't believe me over her! I'm a street rat and she's practically royalty compared to me_. I freed myself of the daze and began to run as fast as I could.

I turned into an alleyway, attempting to lose them. It didn't work. Soon enough I was trapped between two police officers and a brick wall. They grabbed me by the arms and I was pulled out to the street again. A carriage was waiting for me, but it had an enclosed wooden cage instead of a seat in the back.

I was forced into the back of the carriage. The door made of metal bars was closed and locked before I even got a chance to say a word. "We got another guttersnipe. Bring her to the refuge." The officer said. I tried to fight my way out of the carriage by slamming my shoulder against the door a few times, but it was no use. The door was shut tight. Sighing, I sat down on one of the narrow wooden benches that lined the sides of the box I was locked in.

---------

I was forcefully thrown into the cell and almost lost my balance. "Hey! Watch it!" I yelled back at the officer. In response he shut the door, making a loud _clang_ echo throughout the room.

I reached into the oversized pocket of the boy pants I was dressed in. My journal was still there, somehow managing not to fall out throughout the struggle. I sighed and went over to one of the two bunks that were attached to the wall. I looked around the cell. It wasn't very big, but it felt so empty. The sun had set, so the small barred window provided no lighting. Shadows were cast all around the damp cobblestone cell.

"Finally, some company." A voice said from the corner, making me practically jump out of my skin. I whirled around and saw a person sitting against the wall in the shadows. I hadn't noticed him when I first came in.

I put my hand over my heart and tried to catch my breath. "Not often we get a goil in heah. So what did'ya do?" He asked. He lifted his head so I could see two eyes beneath the brim of a cowboy hat.

"First off, I didn't _do_ nuttin'. It was a mistake. I ain't supposed to be here." I replied. He put his hands up in defense. "'Scuse me, didn't mean to offend ya." He said. "But I gotta tell ya, miss. I don't think da bulls care whetha ya did anythin' wrong or not. They'll use any excuse to get a few street rats locked up in heah."

"How long do ya think it will be until they let us out?" I asked, beginning to panic. He shrugged. "Dunno. Few days, maybe a week or two for you. For me, it's a different story."

I gaped at him. "How can you be so calm about this? We're locked in an oversized cage!" I said. He chuckled to himself. "Goil, dis ain't da foist time I'm in heah. Not even close." The worst thoughts ran through my head. _Oh god... I'm sharing a cell with a murderer or something... I just know it..._

The boy pushed himself off from the wall and stood up. It turned out he was a lot taller than he looked. He had light brown hair and wore a red bandana around his neck.

He approached me and spit in his hand. Holding it out, he introduced himself. "Da names Jack Kelly." I looked from his hand to his eyes a few times. He pulled back his hand. "Can I at least get a name from ya?" He asked. When I didn't answer, he sighed and climbed up to the top bunk.

"If I were you, Shamrock, I'd calm down a bit..." Jack said, the nickname he used referring to how my light skin, along with a few freckles splashed across the bridge of my nose, gave away my Irish nationality. A slight brogue was also noticeable if you listened to my speech carefully, but after 7 years it had been almost fully covered up by a New York accent. Jack continued. "Da guy's should be heah in no time to break me outta heah, and you'se welcome to come."

"What are you talkin' 'bout? What guys?" I asked. He laughed to himself and rolled over on his bed, facing his back to me. "You'll find out soon enough, I guess." He replied.

---------

Jack was right when he said I'd find out what he was talking about soon. Actually, he hit the nail right on the head. I found out that night.

I was having a hard time falling asleep. Something about the cell made me unnerved and fidgety. There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but I assumed I had been listening to Jack's light snoring for over an hour now.

I heard movement come from outside, and someone was at the small window. "Jack... Cowboy, ya in heah?" Someone whispered. I got out of bed and went over to the window. The boy stared at me for a second. "Guess I got da wrong cell..." he said. He had a heavy New York accent. His dark brown eyes almost matched the color of his hair.

"No... Jack's in here..." I whispered back. This time, at the mention of his name Jack quickly sat up in bed. Since he was sleeping on the top bunk, he hit his head on the ceiling. "oww..." he groaned, rubbing his forehead. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Jack, apparently 'da guy' you was talkin' about is here." I said. "Shhh!" he hushed me, climbing down. He grabbed his cowboy hat on the way over. "Heya Race." Jack said to the boy in the window. "Hey Cowboy. Ready to get outta heah? Da goil comin', too?" He asked. Jack nodded without asking me.

"Hey Boots, a little help..." The boy said. Apparently there were other people with him that I couldn't see, because someone handed him a crowbar. Within a few minutes, he had slid the bars out of the window and it was just large enough to crawl through.

In one quick motion, Jack pulled himself up and through the window. "Race, let's go see if da coast is clear out front. Mush, you help da goil get out." Jack said. "But... wait, Cowboy!" A voice quietly started to protest, but Jack was already disappearing from view.

He sighed and crawled over to the window. I had been trying to get up by myself, but I was much shorter than Jack and having twice the trouble. A different face appeared at the window, and I paused where I was and stared. He was unbelievably cute, with dark brown eyes and brown hair. His hair was covered under a newsie hat, and the innocence in his eyes looked somewhat familiar...

He extended his hand towards me. "Need some help?" He asked sheepishly. I accepted, placing my hand in his, and he pulled me out of the window. We both ended up on the ground with our faces inches apart. I stood up rapidly and brushed myself off. "Sorry 'bout that..." I said, looking away. The lighting from the moon was dim, but I'm pretty sure I saw his face turn a dark shade of pink. "No... it was, uh... my fault." He replied quickly.

"Guys, c'mon... hurry." Jack called from the side of the building, waving us over. We ran towards him, careful to stay in the darkness of the shadows. The five of us jumped the large gate using a rope the boys had brought with them. We talked at normal volume only once we were out on the street and far from the refuge.

Jack took the liberty of introducing us. "Dis is Mush, Racetrack, and Boots." He said, pointing at each individually as he said their name. "Fellas, dis is... uh..." Jack paused, realizing he didn't know my name. "Well, I don't really know who she is." Jack waited for me to tell them my name, but I didn't. "Guess she's Shamrock now, though." He said, using the nickname he had made up for me back at the refuge. "Dat is, if she don't mind us callin' her dat." Jack added as an afterthought. I laughed and shook my head. "Nah, it's fine. I kinda like it." I replied.

"So ya got a place to stay, Shamrock?" Jack asked me. I shook my head. "Nah, I'm pretty much just on me own." I replied. Jack seemed to be thinking about something. "Hey Race... Did ya happen to take notice of how many newsies were stayin' at da lodgin' house tonight?"

Race shrugged. "Just da usuals. Not too many udders, so we'se got a few extra bunks." Racetrack replied. I seemed to be the only one who didn't know what Jack was thinking. "I dunno if it's a good idea, Cowboy. We ain't sure how Kloppman feels 'bout goils in da lodgin' house." Boots said. _Kloppman... something about that name rung a bell... _

"Ah, come on, Boots. Lighten up." Jack replied, slapping Boots on the back. "We'll find out in da mornin', but for now it's real late 'nd she's got nowhere to go." I cleared my throat and the guys looked over at me, almost forgetting I was there.

I arched an eyebrow at them, wondering what was going on. Jack laughed and put his arm over my shoulders. "Shamrock, you'se welcome to stay wit us for da night. Da four of us live in da newsboys lodgin' house on da udder side of town. It ain't far from heah."

I shifted my weight nervously and didn't answer right away. Could I trust these guys? I mean, I had just met their leader in a prison cell.

Then again, I was put in the refuge too and I wasn't dangerous... They _had _helped me escape. Plus if they lived in the lodging house, that meant they were newsies. I had run-ins with newsboys before since I had been all around New York City. Many of them were dirt poor, but they didn't prove to be bad kids or anything.

"Da rest of da guys are real nice. Dey wouldn't pull anythin' stupid if dat's what you'se worried 'bout." Jack added. I looked up from the ground and met Mush's gaze. He seemed embarrassed and looked away, blushing furiously. _If he's not innocent-looking, then I don't know what is..._ I told myself. Convincing myself it was safe to trust them, I cautiously agreed.

We began heading towards the lodging house. Involved in their own conversation, the rest of the boys walked a few paces ahead of Jack and I. I took this opportunity to ask Jack something.

"Hey Jack..." I whispered, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. "Hmm?" He asked. He moved closer to me, understanding that I didn't want to be overheard by the other guys.

"What's wit your friend Mush?" I asked Jack, keeping my voice down. He shot me a confused look. "What do you mean?" he replied. "I dunno... he just seems kinda..." I couldn't think of the right word. Anxious? Uneasy, or really shy?

"Oh... dat." Jack whispered, understanding what I was talking about. "He's just real shy around goils. Get's noivous sometimes when he's around 'em. Which is weird, I guess, because he shoah gets a lot of 'em...He's a real nice guy, though. Don't let yaself think he's got somethin' against ya or anythin'." Jack told me.

I nodded, showing him I understood. "One more question..." I said. "How come ya didn't aks me my name back dere? Instead ya just used dat nickname for me..." I asked. Jack shrugged. "We'se all got pasts dat we wanna keep secret or forget 'bout. Da newsies know dat best of all. Figured I'd just save ya da trouble."

We reached the lodging house and entered. Jack reminded us to stay as quiet as possible by putting his finger up to his lips. "If Kloppman catches us sneakin' back in dis late at night, we'se all dead meat..." He whispered, his voice barely even audible. The lobby was pitch dark and dead silent.

Still, something was familiar about it. I couldn't place what, though. We snuck up the old staircase, trying to keep it from creaking so much. We reached the bunk room and I looked around.

Dozens of boys were asleep. I couldn't see so well in the lighting, but it looked like their ages ranged from 9 to 19. Jack pointed across the room at an empty bunk, indicating that was where I was to sleep.

I heard low shuffling as the guys climbed into bed. My eyes lingered on Mush for a few moments. I thought about what Jack said about Mush's shyness around girls. _I wonder why he's like that..._ I thought, climbing into my own bunk. Unlike at the refuge, as soon as my head hit the pillow I was asleep.

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"A'right! Rise 'n shine! Up, up, up! Sell da papes, carryin' da banner! Dutchy, let's go. Pie Eater, you too. Da presses are rollin'! Jack, when did ya get back from da refuge? Come on, wake up! And anyone wanna explain dat goil over dere?"

"I'll explain 'er, Kloppman." I heard Jack's voice, suppressed by a yawn. The rest of the boys groaned and got out of bed like zombies. It took me a minute to remember where I was. I opened my eyes and sat up to see Jack and an old man having a conversation in front of my bunk.

"She didn't have a place to stay, so I brought 'er back here wit me. She ain't dangerous or nuttin'. She's innocent of whatever da bulls got her for." Jack explained.

"Ya mean ya broke out again, Jack!?" Kloppman asked, crossing his arms and trying to look angry at him. Cowboy shrugged. "It ain't my fault da security dere ain't so great. I dunno when dey gonna realize dat they should stop tryin', because no one can keep Jack Kelly locked up." Jack replied, grinning. He left Mush, Race and Boots out of the story so they didn't get in trouble for sneaking out.

Kloppman sighed and rolled his eyes, but a slight smile crept onto his face. "Don't expect me to cover for ya if dey come heah lookin' for ya, Jack." Kloppman told him scolding him with his pointer finger, but it was obvious he would protect Jack from the cops if he could.

Jack laughed. "So Kloppman, bout da goil... is it a'right if she stays?" he asked. Kloppman turned to look at me, realizing for the first time that I was watching their whole conversation.

He shrugged. "I suppose so. Long as she's sellin' papes to support herself. But ya gotta make shoah she's comfortable wit da guys, because I ain't got any other room to put 'er in." Kloppman, after taking one last glance around the room to make sure everyone was awake, walked out the door again.

I stood up from my bunk. "What makes ya think I wanna stay here?" I asked Jack, causing him to look up at me. He was tying his bandana around his neck.

"Well, from what I collected from ya last night, you'se alone 'nd don't got a place to stay, right? Which leads me to believe dat you're without a job, too. So if ya stay heah, ya got da newsies, ya got da lodgin' house, and ya got papes to sell. The way I look at it, it solves all three problems, don't it?" He replied with a smirk.

He was right, but I still didn't want to admit it. His ego was already too big for his own good anyway. "Say there's more than three problems, though? For instance, what if I can't be a newsie?" I replied.

"And why not?" Jack asked, putting his black vest on over his shirt. "Well, for one, I ain't a mornin' person. It's gonna take more than dat guy's yellin' to get me up every mornin'...as loud an' obnoxious as it may be." I added. Jack laughed. "And two," I continued, "I ain't never tried, but I can bet ya I can't sell a paper for my life."  
"Well, Shamrock, I happen to have a way around dat. Look around." Jack said, motioning around the bunk room with his hand. "Me and da guys aren't exactly in the best of moods. None of us are mornin' people, but I can assure you'll get used to it." I scanned the room with my eyes. Racetrack had just grabbed something out of a boy's mouth. The boy looked about 12 or 13, and was a small kid. "What am I, a cigar vender!?" Racetrack yelled, smacking the kid upside the head. I suppressed a laugh and turned back to Jack.  
"And what are ya gonna do 'bout da fact that I can't sell papes?" I asked. Jack smirked again and put his arm around my shoulders. "You'se in luck. I-Jack Kelly-happen to be one of da best sella's on dis side of da Brooklyn Bridge. Ya stick wit me today, and I'll teach ya everythin' ya gotta know." He said.

I rolled my eyes and took his arm off my shoulders, but I smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I guess we'll see if ya have a right to be so full of yourself." I said,

"That mean your stayin'?" He asked. "Hey, don't get ahead of yaself. I said I'll sell for a day. I didn't say nuttin' 'bout stayin'." I started walking towards the washroom. "Hey Shamrock..." He called after me.

I turned around to face him. "You think _my_ ego's bad, wait till ya meet da infamous Spot Conlon." Jack said, grinning.

--------

"So ya basically _lie_ 'bout the headline?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. Jack sighed and shook his head. "No, Shamrock. How many times do I gotta tell ya? It ain't _lyin'..._ It's jus' improvin' da truth a little."

I let out a sarcastic "Uh huh." and crossed my arms. "Sounds a lot like lyin' to me, Jack Kelly." He laughed. "What are ya, me mudda? You're just out to make me da bad guy, ain't ya?" I shrugged. "What can I say... I can be just as much of a pain in da ass as you can."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Just get out dere and do what I told ya, a'right?" He said, pushing me playfully off the sidewalk and into the street. I glared at him before turning around to face the New York City crowd. "Extry, Extry! Mayor alleged of punching some guy in the—" Jack grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me back before I could even finish.  
"Dammit, Shamrock. I said _catchy_ woids. Not _borin'_. What are ya tryin' to do, make da people of New Yawk fall asleep on deir way to woik?" I smirked and shrugged. "Maybe." I said.

Jack sighed. "Are you _tryin'_ to be bad at dis just to prove me wrong?" He asked. I laughed. "As much as dat's a great idea, I ain't tryin' to be bad at it. Guess it just comes naturally."

"Yeah, yeah... watch a pro at woik, okay?" Jack stepped out into the middle of the sidewalk and held a paper over his head. "Extra! Mayor suspected guilty of murderin' someone! Corpse found!" A few young girls heading off to school stopped to buy a few papers. "Much obliged to ya, miss. Thank ya very much."

Jack and I slowly made our way to Central Park, selling papers on the way. Of course, he was done selling his papers long before I finished, but he gave me tips on improving headlines and choosing angles. According to him, the first thing I had to learn was that "Headline's don't sell papes, Newsies sell papes."

I had about 5 to go before I was done, when a kid ran up to Jack out of breath. Frantically, he began tugging on his shirt. The boy looked about 13 years old with pale skin and bright red hair.

Jack turned and kneeled down to the kid's level, trying to get something out of him. "Freckles! What's a'matta?!" Jack asked. The boy desperately tried to speak. "Spot's... havin' trouble... wit..." Freckles struggled between gasps for air.

"Spit it out, kid!" Jack said, shaking him by the shoulders. "Queens... fight ova' territories... told me...to come get ya." The boy replied, finally starting to catch his breath. "Ya mean ya ran all da way heah from Brooklyn, Frecks?" Jack asked. Freckles nodded quickly.

"Ah crap..." Jack muttered. He stood up and turned to me. "Listen Shamrock... I gotta go wit him... Spot don't aks for help from anybody unless he's got a real problem on his hands." He said. "Jack! Ya can't just leave me here... I got no clue where I'se goin'!" I exclaimed.

Although I had been in New York City for several years now, I always liked to wander. I never stayed in one part of the city long enough to get to know the area, so when it came to knowing my way around I was sunk.

"I ain't gonna be long, I promise... Just stick 'round heah for a lil' while, 'nd I'll be back to get ya as soon as I can..." Jack said. He turned and followed Freckles out of the park.

---------

"Dammit, Jack... Where are ya?" I mumbled to myself. I had been sitting on the same oversized rock for hours now. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the buildings, casting long shadows of trees around Central Park. Despite the fact that it was summer, my thin shirt didn't provide much warmth for me after sunset.

I sighed and let my chin drop into the palm of my hand. As the minutes of daylight slipped away, so did my chances of being found by one of the newsies. I assumed they would all be heading to the lodging house by now, if not already there.

It continued to get darker, but Jack still didn't show up. I got up, deciding the park wouldn't be too safe anymore after dark. The lodging house couldn't be far from here, and if I had to I would just ask someone for help finding my way back.

Wandering along the streets I tried to think back to that morning, but I hadn't really been paying attention on the way to the distribution office. I recognized a few signs, which led me to believe I was going in the right direction.

Not many people were around, especially as I got closer and closer to the poorer side of town. Most of the small shops closed after dark, leaving the streets almost deserted.

The only light was coming from the freshly-lit streetlamps along the side of the road. I wasn't one to be afraid of the dark, but the yellowish glow made things look almost eerie.

I stopped suddenly when I heard a trash can being violently thrown to the ground. After the racket stopped, I strained my ears to hear anything else. There was a soft whimpering coming from one of the alleyways.

I started running, carefully keeping my footsteps as quiet as I could. As I reached the alley, I saw five figures. They were all inching in towards a little boy, who was scrambling towards the wall of the alleyway. His back touched the bricks and, cornered in, he had nowhere else to go.

A strip of light hit his tear-streaked face, and I recognized him. His name was Les. That morning while we bought our papes, Jack had introduced me to him and his older brother, David.

They moved closer to him, forming a circle around the boy. I quickly approached the alleyway and stood in the opening. "Ya bums gotta be pretty desperate if you'se preyin' on a little kid for money." My voice was stronger and a lot more confident that I felt. They turned to face me.

I gulped. _oh shit..._ They only looked several years older than me, but they sure as hell were bigger. Smirks appeared on their faces. "Hey, lookie dere, guys... da goil's got a problem wit our way of doin' business." Momentarily forgetting about Les, they snickered and began advancing towards me. I held constant eye-contact, glaring at them like I wasn't scared. Inside, my heart was beating faster than ever.

I glanced at Les and my lips formed the word, "Run." He just stared at me, wide-eyed for a moment. Then, like lightning, he slipped around the corner and ran down the street as fast as his legs could carry him.

Judging by the way their mouths twisted into scowls, they didn't seem happy about losing their victim for the night. Slowly, they began moving towards me. I backed away, waiting for the correct opportunity to run. I couldn't take these guys on by myself and I knew it, so I needed to get out of their fast.

The one that was closest to me lunged forward, knocking me to the ground. I brought my knee up hard into his stomach, forcing him to kneel over in pain. Using this chance for a clear shot to the face, I balled my hand into a fist and took it. I think I did more damage to my knuckles then to his cheekbone, but it created a distraction long enough for me to take a run for it.

I fled the alleyway without turning back to look over my shoulder. My footsteps pounded on the cobblestone and I could hear them gaining on me. Struggling to stay ahead, I pushed my legs to go faster. As soon as I thought I was losing them a hand covered over my mouth and dragged me backwards into darkness.

----------

:O Cliffhanger. Bad cliffhanger. I know... I'm pure evil. Sorry about that.

Anyway, please tell me how you think the start of this story's going. I'd love to hear your comments.

I'll post more tomorrow. Probably more than one, because I've got no life. I know what you're thinking. "Pffffft... What a loser." Yeah, yeah. It's okay. I've learned to just accept it :D


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the Disney movie "Newsies."

Heya, fellow-newsiers (Is that a word? It should be) How's it rollin'?

First of all, thanks to all the people who've been reading and reviewing. Second, a few people have told me that the last chapter was a bit confusing because it jumped all around, but I think this chapter will explain everything you need to know. If you still don't get what's going on, send me a message or a review and I'd be more than happy to explain it :)

--START--

I tried to scream but the hand was still clasped tightly over my mouth. A strong grip held onto me as I attempted to squirm out of their grasp. I immediately stopped moving when I looked up and saw a familiar face. His innocent eyes were wide, warning me to stay quiet.

Mush silently slid to his knees, bringing me to the ground with him. The two of us kneeled on the cobblestone, ducking down so that the crates kept us hidden from view. He took his hand off my mouth and his gaze wandered down to my bloody fist.

He knew better than to make a sound, but his eyes looked into mine with sympathy. He mouthed the words, "Are you okay?" I nodded.

We heard footsteps approaching. The echoing sound off the walls told us that they were entering the alleyway. "Where da hell did she go!?" one of them asked. Their shadows reflected on the wall behind us, showing us there were two of them. "I dunno, but if we better find 'er before she finds da cops..."

I closed my eyes tight. Mush and I held our breaths, barely even breathing. A nearby crate was kicked over, but it thankfully it was far enough away that we were still hidden. "She ain't in heah." He muttered. They both headed out into the street again.

We waited in silence for a few minutes, until we were sure they weren't coming back. Mush stood up. "C'mon... we better get outta heah." He whispered, starting to walk away. "Wait..." I said. "We can't go back yet. We gotta make sure Les is alright..."

Mush shook his head. "Les is fine. He was da one who told me you was in trouble in da foist place. I left him at Tibby's wit da guys and den came heah..." He replied. I stared at him for a few seconds, not able to contain my smile. "Thanks..." I muttered. He shrugged and nervously wrung the bottom of his shirt with his hands. "Don't mention it..." He said.

-------

We ran like hell and entered Tibby's completely out of breath. Along with some other faces I didn't know yet, Race looked up from the table. "Dere ya guys are! Either of ya hoit?" He asked. His eyes wandered down to my fist. I quickly hid it behind my back, not wanting to make a big deal of it. "Nah, it's nuttin'. But how'd you know...?" I replied, referring to the incident that had just gone on in the alleyway.

"Les filled us in a few minutes ago. We'se all been sittin' heah freakin' out, wonderin' if Mush found ya a'right." Race told us. Les stood up from one of the tables and came over. Grinning, he stood in front of me and looked up at me. "Your name's Shamrock, right?" I nodded and smiled back. "That was so cool back there, what ya did... I saw ya punch that guy right in da face!" Les replied.

I laughed and ruffled his hair, messing up his hat in the process. "I dunno how cool it woulda' been if Mush didn't come 'nd help me..." I replied, looking over at Mush. His cheeks turned a dark color as all attention was turned to him. He quickly sat down next to Racetrack and buried his face in a menu.

Race laughed and smacked Mush on the back. Then he motioned for me to sit in the booth seat across from him. I slid in next to a boy with an eye-patch. He smiled and gave me a small wave.

"So Shamrock, how'd ya do for ya foist day?" Racetrack asked. I shrugged. "Not bad... I sold 'bout 25 of 30. I didn't think I'd like peddlin' papes, but it ain't half bad..." I replied.

"Dat mean you'se gonna stick 'round?" He asked. I thought about it. Living in the lodging house was a hell of a lot better than living on the streets. I didn't mind selling papers for a living. Plus the guys seemed really nice, and I could learn to be really good friends with them.

"I usually don't stick 'round in one place too long... but shoah, why not. Guess I got nuttin' to lose, right?" I said. "Nuttin' cept your money." The guy with the eye patch said. "Soon enough you'll just be anudda person for Race to beat in pokah." He said, grinning. I looked over at him and returned the smile. "I'm Kid Blink, by da way. Me friends call me Blink. Sometimes it's Kid. Either one, I guess." He said, shrugging. "Guess since you'se one of us now, ya should meet da rest of da gang." He continued.

He turned around to look over the back of the seat. Now he was facing the huge group of newsies that practically filled the small restaurant. "A'right... Let's see..." He chose a group in the back to start with and jumped from table to table, naming off the guys.

"Dat's Skittery, over dere. To his right is Specs, and to his left is Bumlets. Across from him is Crutchy, den Boots- ya already met him I think- sittin' wit him is Jake. At da table behind 'em is Snoddy, Swifty, Itey, and Snipeshooter... Next table is Dutchy wit David 'nd Les... 'course ya know him since ya saved his ass earlier this evenin'... Last is Pie eater 'nd Snitch, 'nd dat's everyone." Blink said, barely taking a breath in between sentences.

My mind swarmed with names. "I think I got 'bout three of 'em down..." I muttered. Blink laughed. "You'll get 'em eventually, jus' give it a few days." He said. Someone was missing. I noticed that Jack wasn't anywhere in the restaurant. He said he would be back hours ago...

"Hey, ya guys seen Cowboy?" I asked. The three of them shook their heads. "Nah... not since he bought his papes dis mornin'." Race replied.

--------

When we got back to the lodging house, it was around 10:00. David and Les left to go home and the rest of the newsies hung out in the lobby. Once everyone got tired of betting their profits in card games, they just sat around and talked.

I sat on the couch next to Racetrack but he was sidetracked by a game of solitaire, so he didn't talk much. I started up a conversation with Bumlets, Dutchy, and Blink. Somehow, we got into the topic of Spot Conlon.

I'd never met him before but I sure as hell heard of him. The guys talked about him all the time. They didn't always say positive things about him, but it seemed like he was pretty well respected nonetheless.

Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, we heard the door open and a policeman stepped in. The guys and I exchanged nervous glances, but continued to talk like nothing was wrong. When the bulls were forced to acknowledge the newsies, it was never a good thing.

He walked over to the big wooden desk Kloppman was sitting behind. "Excuse me, sir... Are you the caretaker of this facility?" The cop asked. He nodded, standing up. "Yes I am. Can I help ya wit somethin'?" Kloppman asked.

"I'm looking for two children. A boy and a girl, both troubled adolescents. They escaped from the refuge a few days ago, and we have reason to believe they'll be found together since they shared a cell. Have they stopped by here by any chance?" The cop asked. I looked closer at him and recognized him as the officer at the refuge who brought me to my cell.

_Oh crap..._ I thought. A nervous feeling started to form in the pit of my stomach. "Shamrock... Cheese it!" Blink whispered in my ear. "Where am I supposed to go?! If I run upstairs he'll see me, 'nd he's standin' right by the door..." I whispered back. I had no clue what to do.

Kloppman tried to look surprised, but he knew perfectly well who the cop was talking about. "Do ya have any more information on dem? It's hard to tell... So many kids come through heah every day..." He said, trying to buy time. "The boy's name is Jack Kelly. He's escaped multiple times, and we have records of him staying in this lodging house before. As of the moment we don't have any information about the girl." The cop replied.

"Hmm... Jack Kelly... Oh yes, tall, brown hair? Haven't seen him in a few months, maybe even half a year." He lied. "As of da goil, we don't get many 'round heah..." Kloppman replied.

"So you won't mind if I take a take a quick look around, then? Make sure they're not around here?" The cop asked, starting to turn towards the newsies. "No!" Kloppman said, almost too quickly. The officer turned back around and gave him a strange look. "No... A'course I don't mind... But I assure ya, ya won't find anythin'. I keep a strict watch on who comes in 'nd out of heah." He said.

All the newsies' eyes wandered to me. "Shamrock, get behind us!" Race whispered, pushing me to the back of the crowd. They all stood in a group in front of me, defending me from the cop's view. He walked over to us, looking closely at each of the boys' faces. The air in the lodging house became uneasy and heavy.

Mush quickly took off his newsboy cap and handed it to me. "Quick, hide your hair!" He whispered. I collected all my hair and stuffed it under the hat, placing it on my head. The officer was getting closer and closer to me. Mush gave me a small nod to tell me it looked alright and turned to face forward.

The cop pushed in between Pie Eater and Skittery, approaching me. I hoped to god that a combination of my baggy boys' clothes and my hair beneath the hat made him believe I was a guy. He looked at me questioningly for a while, holding his gaze on me like he suspected something. I stared right back at him, trying to give off the impression that I had nothing to be scared of.

After what seemed like forever he finally moved on to inspect Mush, who was standing next to me. The timing couldn't have been any more horrible. At that exact second, Jack walked through the lodging house door.

His right eye was badly bruised. A long scratch went across his face, stretching from his eyebrow the corner of to his mouth. When he saw the cop, a hint of panic could be seen in his eye, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

The cop heard him come in and turned around. "Who are you?" he ordered, forgetting about the rest of us. Jack's answer came calmly and collectively. "Who, me? Will Brendson." The officer watched him intently to see if he was lying, but Jack kept eye-contact and never faltered.

"Will, you said your name was? Why are you so bruised up? Have you been starting trouble around here?" He asked. Jack shrugged. "No...I got mugged on da way back from sellin'." His answer came so steadily that I almost believed him.

The rest of us decided to follow his lead just to play it safe, although Jack looked like he had this situation pretty well handled by himself. "Again, Will!? Dis is da second time dis month... I keep tellin' ya not to sell alone anymore!" Itey said, taking a step towards him.

All the newsies agreed, and Race turned to the officer. "Wit all due respect, officer... Maybe ya should be patrollin' da streets more instead of interrogatin' innocent newsies. Dat way, stuff like dis wouldn't happen so often." Racetrack said, motioning to Jack. He smirked and the rest of us had to hide our snickering.

Taking one last look around the room, he decided he was searching in the wrong place. "Be sure to notify us if you see either of them." The cop told Kloppman. "Of course." He replied, shutting the door behind the officer as he left.

The rest of us waited a few moments before we stopped holding our breaths. Finally, when we were sure he was gone, we sighed and began talking again. "Dat was a close one..." Boots said. "Shamrock, I was shoah he recognized ya..." Snoddy told me.

"Nice shinah, Cowboy. Dat bruise just saved ya ass, because you'se barely even look like yaself all blooded up like dat." Race said. "Did ya really get jumped, Jack?" Specs asked. Cowboy shook his head. "Nah... Dere was a territory fight between Brooklyn 'nd Queens today. Spot aksed me for help, 'nd it jus' got a little outta hand." He explained.

"A'right, boys! 'nd uh... goil. I think you'se had enough excitement for one day. Let's go, off to bed." Kloppman ordered. Everyone groaned and slowly climbed up the stairs.

I was behind Mush as we walked to the bunk room. I lightly tapped him on the shoulder. Taking off his hat, my hair fell down onto my shoulders again. "Thanks..." I said, handing it back to him. He smiled timidly back at me, taking his hat. "It's no problem." He said.

---------

I stared up at the unoccupied mattress above me, practically memorizing every crack in the wooden bunk. I had been listening to the guys' snoring for over a few hours by that point, but no matter how hard I tried sleep wouldn't come to me.

I wasn't even the least bit tired. My eyes were wide open, taking in the darkness of the room. I assumed couldn't sleep since I was still a little jumpy from the events of that day.

Deciding I had to clear my mind, I rolled over and sat on the edge of my bed. Fishing through the drawer of my bedside table, I felt around for my journal and took it out. I hadn't written since I arrived at the lodging house. It was about time I emptied my thoughts.

I grabbed a pen and left the bunkroom, being as quiet as possible. I needed light and I didn't want to disturb the boys. Going out into the hallway, I closed the door behind me. It wasn't much of a hallway, really. There was about 5 feet of empty floor space between the staircase and the bunk room door.

Trying to find the light, I felt around above my head. My hand closed on a metal chain hanging from the ceiling, and I pulled gently on it. It clicked and the small area was filled with a really dim glow. The light bulb wasn't bright at all, but it would have to work.

I sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Positioning my journal on my knees for support, I began to scribble things down.

The bunk room door creaked open and I looked up from my writing. Mush was standing in the doorway, looking at me. "Uh... you okay, Shamrock?" he whispered. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep." I replied, smiling. He nodded slowly and was quiet for a few seconds. "Yeah, same wit me...Anythin' upsettin' ya?" He asked.

"Nah. Jus' not tired." I told him. "Oh... Okay. Well, sorry for botherin' ya." He said, turning back into the bunk room. "It's a'right. I'm jus' writing...You ain't botherin' me, Mush." I replied. "C'mere, come sit wit me. Might as well have some company since we both can't sleep, right?" I scooted over so he had room to sit against the wall. I was unsure if he'd accept my offer because of his shyness around girls, but I hoped he would.

A shy smile spread across his face. "Yeah, guess so..." He muttered, sitting next to me. I could tell he was nervous by the way he wrung his hands. "So what're you writin'?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

I handed him my journal, open to the page I was writing on. He slowly took it, studying the symbols written clearly on the paper. "What is this...?" He whispered. "It's Gaelic..." I replied, also keeping my voice down. "It's the first language I learned, so it's faster for me to write wit."

"Woah...What does dat word mean?" He asked, pointing to a group of letters at the bottom of the page. I leaned over to see what he was pointing at. "Oh, dat's me real name in Gaelic. It means 'dark haired.'" Mush shot me a confused look, so I explained. "Out of my whole family I was the only one born wit dark hair, so dat's what me mudda named me." I replied. Although my skin was pale with light freckles, my hair was almost black in color. It fell in loose waves down to the middle of my back.

"Where'd ya learn how to write in Gaelic?" He asked, still looking down at the journal. "In Ireland... I used to go to school dere when I was young." I told him. "Really?" He said. "I mean, I knew you was Irish, but I didn't know ya lived dere..."

I nodded. "Yeah, I was an immigrant. Came heah when I was 'bout 8 years old. I got separated from da rest of my family, though, so I'se been alone ever since."

He suddenly looked up from the journal, staring at me with his mouth slightly open. "What?" I asked, confused. "Shamrock... What did ya say your real name was?" He asked. "I didn't... but it's Keira." I replied.

His eyes narrowed as they searched my face. I raised an eyebrow at him but stayed quiet, wondering what was going through his mind. "Stay heah... I'll be right back." Mush said, standing up. He disappeared into the bunk room and came out again in about a minute, holding something in his hand.

He sat down next to me again, but this time closer. "I think... dis is yours." He said, handing me something. It was a doll, made out of thin fabric. Dirty and torn, it was wearing a light blue dress. I recognized it almost instantly.

"My old doll..." I muttered, staring at it amazed. "But how did you...? Oh my god..." I whispered as it all clicked in my mind. "This was the lodging house I came to, and I was found on the steps in the snow... and Kloppman told me that..." My voice faded out as I muttered, talking more to myself than to Mush.

I looked up into Mush's eyes, and I understood why they had seemed so familiar. "You and the guys found me and brought me in heah." I said as a smile crept onto my face. He nodded quickly.

I returned my gaze to the doll again. "Why did ya keep this so long? It's gotta have been at least 7 years since I left it heah..." I said. I didn't have to look up to tell that Mush was blushing. "I dunno... I guess I kept it jus' incase ya came back." He said. "We woke up 'nd you was gone, so we had no idea where ya went."

_Nolan_. The thought of him brought back memories that left me with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. "I went to find my brudda'..." I said slowly, looking to the floor.

Mush saw the look on my face and moved a little closer to me. "Shamrock... I didn't mean to bring up anythin' dat would upset ya..." He said, lightly touching my arm with his hand. I sniffled back the tears and tried to cover it with a smile, looking up at him. "Nah, it's not your fault."

It became silent between the two of us for a few minutes. "I looked all over New York City for him, but I never found him. I guess dey sent him back to Ireland as soon as he got off da boat, thinkin' dat he was sick."

"I'm real sorry, Shamrock." Mush said, looking down at the floor. I cleared my throat and scolded myself to forget the bad memories. "Don't be... It's okay." I replied, shaking my head.

I stole a glance at Mush. Now that I thought about it, I remembered he was shy when I first met him, too. He was 9 years old back then. He had definitely grown up since then, but I couldn't believe I didn't recognize him. His face looked similar, and his eyes didn't change one bit. _He definitely got really cute over the past few years... _

"You know what dis means?" I said. He looked up at me, making me realize how close our faces were to each other. "What?" he asked curiously. "It means that between tonight in da alley and back den in the snow, you saved me life twice. I think I owe ya a thanks." I smiled at him and he smiled back.

We sat there, just staring at each other for a few seconds. A newsie in the bunk room cleared his throat loudly in his sleep, bringing me back to reality. "We should, uh... get some sleep. I'm startin' to get kind of tired." I said, getting up from the floor.

Mush nodded and blushed, looking away. "Yeah..." he said, standing up. He handed me back my journal and we both went into the bunk room.

----------

So good? bad? A little confusing? Please send me your comments :D

I'm going to try and get another out today if I get the chance. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie "Newsies"

Hey guys. Thanks so much for the reviews you guys have been sending :) They're really great.

Okay. So this chapter's a bit short, but I didn't have much time to edit it and I wanted to get at least something out.

--START--

Morning came way too soon, and Kloppman made sure that we knew it. I groaned and sat up in my bed, reaching to the side table for my brush. I got a few 'G'morning, Shamrock...'s as the guys filed into the washroom. I muttered back my hellos, too tired to say anything else.

As I was brushing through my hair, I looked around the room. My eyes lingered on Mush. He was pulling his suspenders over a grey button-down shirt. I found myself smiling slightly as I thought about our meeting in the hallway. He had been so sweet. I was starting to think he was too shy to ever have a real conversation with me, but aside from being a little nervous he seemed to be alright the night before.

"Got somethin' ya wanna spill, Shamrock?" I turned around to see Jack standing behind me, smirking. "I dunno what you'se talkin' about." I said, putting my brush down. He leaned in closer to me. "Ya seem to be watchin' Mush pretty closely dere, wit a smile on ya face none-da-less. Someone got a crush?" he whispered, grinning at me.

"Oh, grow up. I was jus' daydreamin' 'nd he happened to be standin' where I was starin'." He put his hands up in defense and rolled his eyes. "A'right, whatever ya say." He said sarcastically.

"Jack... Shut yer pie hole, a'right?" I replied. He laughed. "So I hoid about yesterday wit Les..." For a second I thought he was going to bring up Mush again, but he didn't. "Lemme see yer fist." He said.

"It's nuttin' big." I said, putting my hand out to show him. "It's jus' a little bruised." I said. He inspected my knuckles. "Ya really coulda gotten hoit, ya know... Dere was five of 'em, right? 'nd only one of you... Ya got lucky. dat coulda ended pretty bad..." He mumbled.

He looked up from my hand. "Maybe ya should learn how to fight... Ya know, so ya can defend yaself if somethin' like dis happens again." He suggested. "I _can_ defend myself." I replied. Jack shook his head. "Nah, I mean more dan throwin' a few punches. Like, _really_ learn to fight."

I thought about it. "Guess it couldn't hoit... but who's gonna teach me?" I asked. Cowboy shrugged. "One of da boys, I guess. But we'll think 'bout it later. For now let's jus' go sell some papes."

--------

"I think you're gettin' da hang of dis." Jack said as I returned to him empty handed. I grinned. Being a newsie was a lot better than I thought it would be. I was actually starting to like it.

"So whadda ya say we get ourselves some lunch, huh? I think ya earned it. We can sell a couple more later when da afternoon edition comes out." He suggested. I agreed and we headed over to Tibby's.

The small bell on the door announced our presence. The restaurant was almost deserted, except for three people we spotted from across the room. It was Crutchy, Blink, and Mush.

Crutchy waved us over to the table. "Hey, Cowboy... Shamrock. Take a seat, guys." He said. I sat next to Crutchy, across from Mush. I smiled at him. He smiled back and looked down at the menu.

----------

The waitress wrote down our orders and walked away. While we were waiting for the food to come, the door opened. A guy started walking over to us. He was dressed like a newsie, but I'd never seen him around Manhattan before.

"Heya, Jackie Boy." He said, approaching Jack. He looked up from the table. "Hey, Spot! What brings ya to Manhattan? Why don't ya take a seat?" Cowboy offered.

The boy shook his head. "Nah, I ain't gonna stay. I jus' wanted to thank ya for helpin' out Brooklyn yesterday. Queens ain't botherin' us no more. Dey're back in deir place." He said in a confident tone.

_That must be Spot Conlon..._ I thought. He was a lot smaller than I expected. Although he was skinny, he was pretty well built. Still, nothing about him looked dangerous except for his posture. Spot held a cane in one hand and hooked his thumb underneath his red suspenders with the other.

His hair was a sandy blonde color but was almost completely hidden underneath a dark plaid cap. His grayish blue eyes wandered over to me.

"Who's dis, Jackie Boy?" He asked, one side of his mouth forming into a smirk. "Dat's Shamrock. She's our newest Manhattan newsie." Jack replied. Spot nodded and picked up my hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he lightly kissed my hand but his eyes never left mine. "Nice to meet ya, Shamrock." He said.

I could feel my face turning red, but I couldn't help but smile. "Nice to meet you too..." I replied.

He let go of my hand and I looked from Jack back to Spot. Jack still looked pretty beat up from the fight, although the bruises had started to heal. When I looked over at Spot I noticed he looked perfectly fine except for a small scratch on his forehead.

Cowboy must have noticed the same thing I did because he snapped his fingers. "I got it!" He exclaimed. We all looked over to him. "Shamrock, memba' I was telling ya dat you should learn how to fight?" I nodded. "Maybe Spot'll teach ya! He's da best fighter I know of."

"How 'bout it, Spot? Would ya be willin' to teach da goil?" Jack asked. Spot bit his lip, thinking about it. "I dunno, Jackie Boy... She'd have to come back to Brooklyn wit me for a while. I ain't comin' to Manhattan every day to teach 'er."

Cowboy turned to me. "Ya wouldn't mind stayin' in Brooklyn for a while, would ya, Shamrock?" he asked. I shrugged. "Guess not. For how long?" I said. "Well, I gotta sell papes every day in da morning. So if I teach ya to fight for 'bout an hour a day, ya should know everythin' ya need to after a week. Two weeks, tops." Spot replied.

_2 weeks... That's a pretty long time. _I thought. I wouldn't mind staying in Brooklyn, but it had only been a few days and I was already attached to the Manhattan newsies. I would miss seeing them.

As if Spot read my mind, he said "I'll bring ya heah every few days to see Jack 'nd da rest of them, if ya want." He offered. It wouldn't be the same as living in Manhattan, but it would have to work. Jack wanted me to learn to defend myself, and personally I didn't think it was a bad idea.

"A'right. I guess dat sounds good." I agreed. "Good. When do ya wanna start, Conlon?" Jack asked. Spot shrugged. "As soon as we can, I guess. Can ya bring her over to Brooklyn tomorrow mornin'?" He asked.

Jack nodded, standing up. "Okay. See ya den, Jackie Boy." Spot said, spitting in his hand. Cowboy did the same and they shook.

--------

That night, I collected my things and put them by my bed so I was ready to leave in the morning. I didn't have much other than some extra clothes and my journal.

I was the only one in the bunk room. Everyone else was downstairs, involved in a poker game. I looked up, surprised, when I heard the door creak open.

"Hey Mush." I said, smiling at him. He smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked nervous about something. "Whats a'matter?" I asked, sensing his uneasiness. He shook his head and sat down on the bunk next to mine. "Nuttin'... Jus' came to talk wit ya since you'se all alone up heah." He said.

I went over to my bed. Lying down on my back, I stared at the bunk above me. It was quiet between us for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was a hum of indistinct talking and laughter coming from the lobby below us. "Uh... hey Shamrock?" Mush said. "Hmm?" I replied, turning my head to look at him.

"I have somethin' to give ya..." He mumbled, reaching into his pocket. He took out a small wooden box and handed it to me. I looked at him questioningly, but he just looked down, the brim of his hat hiding his eyes.

The hinged box was square and no bigger than the palm of my hand. I opened it slowly and saw a necklace. The thin silver chain held a charm on it. The charm was in the shape of a claddagh design. Two hands holding a heart, it was the symbol of the Irish heritage.

My mouth dropped slightly open as I stared at it. It was beautiful. My eyes wandered to Mush, who was watching me. "I saw it in one of da shops near here, 'nd it reminded me of you..." he said. "I- I can't... accept dis, Mush." I replied. "Why not?" He asked.

"I can't... I appreciate it so much. It's real beautiful, but... I can't take it." I said, giving him back the box. How could he afford something like that? He stood up and walked over to me. "Shamrock, I bought it for ya. I really want ya to have it." he said.

I looked up at him, unsure about what to say. He smiled and took another step towards me. Mush took the necklace out of the box and placed it in my palm. Then, putting his hand over mine, he closed my fingers around it.

"Thank you." I whispered. "I love it." I leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Mush stood there for a few seconds, frozen. His face turned a darker color as he blushed. He finally snapped back into reality when he heard Kloppman's voice from downstairs, telling the newsies to go to bed.

----------

"So ya like swimmin'?" Jack asked as we walked towards Brooklyn. We left the lodging house around fifteen minutes before, so we were still in Manhattan. Jack skipped selling so he could bring me there. Since we left around 7:00 AM, Cowboy could be back in time to sell the afternoon edition if he had to.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I like it. Why?" I asked. "Conlon 'nd his newsies spend all their time around the docks. When dey ain't sellin' papes, dey're swimmin'." Jack explained.

My eye caught something in a shop window and I stopped walking. It was a necklace identical to mine, except it was gold instead of silver. There were two gold ones in the display case, but there was an empty hook between them where another necklace once was. My hand went up to the chain around my neck and clasped around the charm.

A sign next to them read "$6.50." If this is where Mush bought it, then the necklace was really expensive. How could he afford to buy it? That was more than most newsies made in a month. I hoped he didn't steal it... Even though I knew some newsies would, I didn't think Mush would do something like that. But where did he get the money?

"Uh, Shamrock? You'se alive?" Jack asked, waving his hand in front of my face. "What?" I asked, snapping out of my thoughts. "I said, Maybe Conlon can teach ya how to use a slingshot." Jack repeated.

My curiosity got the best of me. "Can you hold that thought, Cowboy? I'll be right back... I jus' wanna see something." I told him. As I walked through the door of the small shop, I took the necklace off and slid it into my pocket.

The pawn shop was dim inside. The counters were overflowing with stands of jewelry and other small items like trinket boxes and hair clips. A lady, about 30 years old, was sitting near the cash register reading a book. Other than that, the store was deserted.

She looked up when she heard me enter. "Oh! Hello there. Can I help ya?" she asked, smiling. "Hi... I jus' have a question." I replied. "I noticed the claddagh necklaces in the window..."

"Oh, those. They're real pretty, aren't they? We got them in 'bout a few weeks ago... Did ya know the design was originally invented in a small fishin' village in Ireland? I'm a little bit Irish meself, but I didn't know that until recently..." She told me.

This was going to be easier than I thought. I could already tell she sure liked to talk. Judging by the emptiness of the store, she hadn't had a real conversation with anyone in days.

"Really? Didn't know dat. Dat's interestin'..." I said. "Anyway, I was wonderin' if you had any silver ones." The lady shook her head. "Sorry. The only silver one we had was sold a few days ago. To a teenage boy, actually. Imagine that." She said, chuckling a little to herself.

"Hmm... That is strange. Wonder who he was." I replied, trying to get a little more information out of her. She shrugged. "I dunno. He was dressed like a newsboy, actually. At first I was tryin' to figure out how he could afford somethin' like it, but then he told me he'd been savin' his money for months until he found somethin' worthwhile to spend it on. When I asked him who it was for, he said it was for a girl. Ain't that cute?" the woman asked.

I smiled and nodded. "Very." I said. "Well, I hafta' get goin'. Thanks." I called over my shoulder. She waved as I stepped out the door.

"What was dat about?" Jack asked. I shook my head. "Nuttin'. Let's just get goin'. So a slingshot, huh? Heard it wasn't real easy to learn." I replied. Jack laughed. "It ain't... but, see... Brooklyn's got dis thing with slingshots..."

---------

Thanks so much for reading. Please review if you can.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie "Newsies"

The last one I posted was kind of short, so this one is a little longer to make up for it.

--START-- 

As we got closer, the smell of salt water became stronger. I followed Jack onto a wooden dock overlooking the Hudson River. The noise of splashing and yelling surrounded us. The boys in the water eyed Jack and I suspiciously as we walked by.

Spot jumped down from the crates, making a loud i thud /i on the wood pier. "Heya, Jackie Boy." He put his cane through his belt loop and spit in his hand. Then he extended it towards Jack, who did the same.

"Well you'se done sellin early, ain't ya?" Cowboy asked. Spot looked into the sky and squinted at the sun that was directly above us. "It's 'bout noon. Dat ain't early. Besides, we ain't done sellin' yet anyway. Da boys 'nd me are just takin' a break."

Spot turned his attention to me and smiled. "Shamrock, right?" He asked. I nodded. "I figured we'd start ya lessons tonight. After I get back. For now, let's just get ya settled." He said.

"I gotta get goin', Spot. Thanks." Jack said, motioning to me. Then he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me towards him for a quick hug. "I'll see ya 'round, Shamrock. Good luck wit da fightin'. Don't soak Conlon to hard, a'right?" Jack said, grinning. He put his cowboy hat on to shade him from the sun and walked towards Manhattan.

"Bricks! Hey, Bricks!" Spot called. A boy looked up from the water. He had jet black hair that was just long enough to hang in his crystal blue eyes. "Get up heah!" Spot yelled over the noise of the other Brooklyn newsies.

The boy climbed up the rope ladder and stood in front of Spot, soaking wet. He was wearing his underwear, which was nothing but white pants that cut off right below the knee. He glanced curiously at me, but turned his attention to Spot. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Dis is one of Jack's newsies... Shamrock. She's gonna be stayin' heah for a week or two so I can teach 'er how to fight. I need ya to show her 'round. Bring her to da lodgin' house so she can get settled." He commanded. "Shoah thing, Spot." Bricks replied.

"Oh, 'nd Bricks?" Spot said. The boy questioningly looked up again. "Put some clothes on, a'right?" Bricks grinned and nodded, grabbing his pants and shirt off the dock.

-------

There was no sign above the door to point out that it was a lodging house. Actually, it looked like every other warehouse building on the block. Bricks opened the door and we stepped into a dark room.

When he flicked on the lights I looked around. Inside, it looked like it was once a shop but it was abandoned a long time ago. There were dusty display counters lining the walls, but some old couches and other pieces of furniture were pressed up against them now.

Brick's gaze traveled to my face. "Look, we ain't got a real lodgin' house like you do back in Manhattan, a'right? We ain't got a caretaker, neither. So Conlon takes care of things 'round heah best as he can." I nodded, showing him I understood.

He led me to a staircase that was behind a door. A long time before the Brooklyn newsies lived there, the shop owner's family must have lived upstairs on the second floor, while the business was run downstairs.

The main bunk room obviously used to be two different bedrooms, but a wall was knocked down in the middle to make it bigger. There was also a door connecting to a third room, no larger than a big closet. Bricks explained to me that was where Spot slept. At the far end, there was a washroom with a few sinks and some showers.

"So, dis'll be your bunk. It's above where I sleep. Ya don't mind a top one, do ya? It's da only one we have right now." Bricks said. I shook my head and put my stuff on the bunk. "Nope. It'll be fine. Thanks." I replied.

"A'right, well... I'm guessin' Spot wants ya to get settled in for at least a day before ya start sellin'. However, dat don't excuse me from skippin' a day. You'se gonna be okay heah by yourself? It'll only be a few hours 'till Spot's done, 'nd he'll be by to get ya." Bricks told me.

"Okay." I said, nodding. He turned and left the bunk room. After much difficulty, I finally lifted myself up to the top bunk since there was no ladder. I had a few hours to kill. I reached for my journal and a pen.

---------

"Let's see what ya can do. Throw some punches." Spot commanded, standing in front of me. "What?" I asked, confused. Spot rolled his eyes. "Punch me." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Jus' do it!" He said.

Hesitantly, I threw a weak punch to his stomach. Spot got an extremely bored look on his face. "Shamrock... If you'se gonna punch like dat, you wouldn't even be able to beat up a kitten."

I laughed. "Shut up!" I replied, punching him towards his shoulder. He grinned back at me and blocked the hit by catching my fist. "Better... Jus' try not to be so predictable. Makes it easier for da udder person to defend 'emself."

Spot and I were standing on the same dock that Jack and I arrived at that morning. This time, it was deserted except for the two of us. The other newsies were finishing selling or back at the lodging house. It was close to dusk so the temperature was comfortable and breezy near the water.

"Let's go!" Spot said, holding up his fists and shifting his weight on his feet. After jabbing at him a few times, I realized he was going to block just about everything I threw at him. I quickly grabbed Spot's cane and pulled it from his belt loop, holding it away from him. "Hey!" He yelled, trying to snatch it back. I took a clear shot to his face and hit his jaw.

Spot stumbled backwards and almost lost his balance. He adjusted his jaw and looked up at me, smirking. "Nice shot." He mumbled. "Thanks." I replied, grinning. "But ya cheated." Spot added, taking his cane back.

"So what? Ya told me not to be predictable... 'nd it woiked, didn't it?" I said. Spot laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. But it don't really count... Let's woik on ya posture, a'right?" He said, taking a step towards me.

He lifted up my arms and made me hold them in front of my face. "Now, keep da left fist a little in front of da right one." I obeyed, and Spot put his hands on my shoulders. "Now turn your body a little to da side like dis. Keep dis foot ahead of da other... good." He released me and moved away again.

"Block wit ya left arm and jab wit ya right." He told me. Spot threw a few light punches at me and I blocked most of them. I took a few opportunities to return the hits, but he always shielded himself from them. Then without warning, he swiftly picked me up and held me over the water.

"Spot! What are ya doin'! Lemme go!" I yelled, struggling to get down without falling off the edge of the dock. "If you get to cheat, den so do I." He whispered, smirking. He dropped me into the water, but not before I pulled him in with me. I grabbed his arm before I hit the surface, and soon enough both of us were submerged in the dark blue water.

I resurfaced before Spot did and looked around for him. He finally came up a few feet away from me. After spitting out a mouthful of water, he stared at me with a shocked expression.

"Hey! Nobody pushes Spot Conlon into da water. _Especially_ in his own territory..." He said. I shrugged. "Somethin' tells me you'll live." While Spot treaded the water he tried to look angry at me, but the smirk reappeared on his face. "Somethin' tells me _you_ won't!" He yelled, lunging towards me.

Before I knew it, he had pushed my head under the water. When I returned to the surface after a few seconds, Spot was right next to me in the water. "Think ya learned ya lesson, Shamrock?" He asked, grinning. I shook my head from side to side.

"Dat's too bad..." Spot replied, placing his hand on my head to push me underwater again. "OKAY! Yes, I learned me lesson, a'right?" I screamed. Conlon pulled his hand back and we both laughed.

A crashing sound caused both of us to look up at the dock. One of the bottles that was used as aim for slingshots had fallen off the crates. It broke on the wood and was shattered into pieces. After the crash, I thought I had seen the figure of a person dodge behind the crates.

Spot shrugged and turned to face me again. "Wind musta' knocked it over." He said. _The wind's too weak today..._ I thought.

I looked over Spot's shoulder and thought I saw a shadow at least 20 feet from the docks, running away quickly. _ Was someone spying on us...?_ I shook my head free of the thought. It was getting dark now, and night had its way of twisting things around. There was no point in alarming Spot when my mind was probably just playing tricks on me.

"So now dat we'se both cold an' wet-" Spot started. "I ain't cold." I replied, swimming past him on my back. He laughed. "Wait until we get out. Da sun's gone down, so it's gonna be freezin'. As I was sayin' before I was _interrupted _... We'll end da fightin' lesson heah, 'nd I'll teach ya more tomorrow. Let's get back to da lodgin' house." He said. I nodded. Spot swam to the docks, grabbing his floating hat on the way over.

------

Spot and I entered the bunk room. The Brooklyn newsies looked up from whatever they were doing and fell silent. Spot nodded at them and they began to mutter again to each other. "New goil, Conlon?" one boy asked. Although he looked older, Spot's glare was enough to shut him up.

"No, Pocket. She ain't _me goil_." He said the last two words in a mocking tone. He raised his voice so the entire room could hear his announcement. "She's gonna be stayin' heah for da next few weeks so she can learn to fight. However, jus' because she ain't my goil doesn't mean I ain't gonna soak one of ya bums if ya try anythin' wit her. Got it?" Spot demanded.

The rest nodded quickly and started asking questions. Everyone seemed to be thoroughly interested in why the two of us were soaking wet. Everyone except for Bricks. He was lying on his bed, fully awake and staring at the underside of my bunk.

Spot waved away the questions and looked over at me, his glare diminishing. When he spoke his voice softened and he didn't sound demanding anymore. I noticed there was a difference between the way he talked to me and the way he talked to his boys. "Ya got any extra clothes?" he asked. I nodded. "Yeah, they're on me bunk." I said, walking over and standing on tiptoe so I could reach them.

"Ya can change in me room, since we ain't got any changin' stalls 'round heah." Spot showed me where his room was and shut the door behind me. It was dark and the only light came from the moonlight pouring in through the small window.

Spot's room was only about 7 feet from wall to wall. It held nothing but a one-person bed and a large wooden trunk where Spot kept his things. I pulled a white shirt on over my head and put on black pants. A knock came on the door as soon as I finished fastening the last few buttons on the top of my shirt.

"Ya decent, Shamrock?" I heard Spot's muffled voice from the other side. "Yeah." I replied. He opened the door and stepped in. "Sorry it's so dark. Dis used to be a closet, I think, so dey're ain't any lights in heah." Spot explained. I nodded and it fell quiet between the two of us.

"What's wit dat necklace?" Spot asked, breaking the silence. When I glanced at him with a puzzled expression, he continued. "You'se been playin' wit it all night." I looked down to realize that I was fiddling with the chain around my neck. My hand clasped around the charm.

"It special or somethin'?" He asked. I shrugged and nodded at the same time. "Mush gave it to me." I muttered. I thought I saw a glint of jealously in Spot's eyes, but it disappeared quickly. "Mush Myers? One a' Jackie Boy's newsies?" He asked calmly.

I nodded and Spot opened his trunk, chuckling to himself. "He's good." He responded, taking out dry clothes and placing them on his bed. I tilted my head to the side. "Whadda' ya mean?" I asked.

"Da necklace thing. It's classic." He replied. Spot saw that I was still confused and sighed. "He's a regular romantic. He's good wit goils because he knows how dey woik... So you an' him togedda?"

I wasn't sure what to make of Spot's comment, so I just shook my head. "Nah. Me an' Mush are jus'... friends." I replied. When I said that a pang of urge pulled at my gut. I knew deep down I wanted to be more than that, but I refused to admit it to myself or anyone else.

Spot nodded. "Jus'... Jus' be careful, a'right Shamrock? I'se been hearin' from lil boids dat Mush will flirt wit almost any goil he's got a chance wit..." He sounded so sincere and honest, but I still shook my head. "Nah, Mush is real shy 'round goils... ain't he?" I asked, trying to convince myself more than anything.

Spot snorted. "Listen, don't let his shyness fool ya. Personally, I think it's all an act, because I hoid he's had more goils dan all of Jackie Boy's newsies combined." He looked up to see my reaction and my gaze fell to the floor.

I didn't want to believe Spot, but he was probably right. He seemed to know a lot about the Manhattan newsies since he was close friends with Jack, and he knew Mush better than I did. Even Jack told me the same thing when first met him. I asked about Mush, and his exact words were, "he shoah get's a lot of goils."

I sighed and told myself to forget about it. I didn't have to deal with it for the time being anyway. "A'right... Well, I'm real tired. Thanks for da fightin' lesson 'nd everythin', Spot. See ya tomorrow." I started heading for the door when he put a hand on my arm to stop me. "Shamrock... if ya want, I'll sleep in da bunk room 'nd ya can sleep in my room. Dis way ya don't gotta feel uncomfortable 'round da guys."

I smiled weakly and shook my head. "Nah. It's alright, Spot. I'll be fine. But thanks for da offer." He nodded and took his hand off my arm. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's you're foist day of sellin' in Brooklyn." He told me.

--------

I approached my bunk but someone blocked my path. I looked up to see a Brooklyn newsie. He was at least a head taller than me with almost black eyes. "Hey..." he said. "Hi." I mumbled, trying to move away. He stepped in front of me again.

"I don't think Spot properly introduced ya to da rest of us... Ya got a name?" He asked. I nodded. "Shamrock. S'cuse me. I think I'm gonna get some sleep." I muttered, attempting to push past him. "Hey, not so fast, Shamrock. What if I wanna know a lil' more 'bout ya?" He replied, smirking and putting his hand on my shoulder. "Not so often we get new meat 'round dis place."

I shook him off. "Look, I'se a person, a'right? Not a piece of steak. Jus' leave me alone, k?" I said. He looked like he was going to protest, but something stopped him.

"Leave 'er be, Hawk." Bricks' voice came from the bunk behind us. He sat up and glared at the guy. "Aw, shut it, Bricks. I was jus' bein' friendly." His grin made me feel uncomfortable as he turned back to look at me.

"Yeah, well don't. Ya heard Spot. He don't want anyone tryin' anythin' wit her." Bricks said. "Oh, 'nd what are you gonna do 'bout it? Wanna make somethin' of it?" Hawk growled back. Bricks jumped to his feet, raising his fists and Hawk backed off. "A'right, a'right... calm down." He muttered, retreating across the room.

"Thanks." I said to Bricks. "No problem." He replied. He winced in pain as he stood. I looked down at his foot. Although it was wrapped in a rag, blood was still visible as it seeped through the cloth. Bricks saw me looking at his foot while he sat back down on his bed. "It jus' got a lil' cut up on some sharp rocks. Last time I try to go swimmin' durin' low tide." He explained, smiling nervously. Something about his eyes told me he was lying.

I nodded, deciding to give him a break. If he was lying about it, it was probably for a good reason. I pulled myself onto my bunk and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to wander. The lights were turned off and the room quieted down within a few minutes.

I reflected over the day in my head. _I had a lot of fun with Spot at the docks... _ /i I thought. _Wonder who was spyin' on us... Maybe I shoulda told Spot. Could've been someone from another part of the city, plannin' on starting a fight over territories..._ I decided on telling him tomorrow. My mind slowly wandered back to what Spot said about Mush. For some reason it really upset me. Maybe it was because I just didn't want to believe that Mush was like that, or maybe it was because I didn't want to be just another face in the crowd to him.

My hand went up to the chain around my neck. I figured I should take it off. I didn't feel comfortable keeping it, especially after what I heard about Mush. "Hey Bricks..." I whispered, leaning my head over the bunk. Even though it was dark, I could still barely see his face. He opened one of his eyes. "Yeah?" He whispered back.

"Can ya hand me dat journal over there?" I said, pointing to the book on the table beside our bunk. As he reached for the book, it clicked. _Bricks. The glass from the broken bottle. His foot. The spy. _My mouth dropped open.

"Were... were you spyin' on me 'nd Spot today?" I asked. He looked up at me, alarmed. "No." he answered. "Why would ya think dat?" He said, a little calmer this time. "For one, ya foot's all cut up. From broken glass, maybe?" I replied. He shook his head and rolled over so he wasn't facing me anymore. "I told ya. I cut it on rocks."

"I think you'se lyin'." I said. "I ain't, okay? It couldn't have been me, 'cause I wasn't down by da docks all day." He replied. I smirked. "Who said we was by da docks."

"I-I uh..." He stuttered. Bricks was quiet for a few seconds. "I jus' assumed when da two of ya walked in soakin' wet..." He said, momentarily saving himself. "Speakin' of which, ya seemed to be da only one who wasn't interested in _why_ we was soakin' wet. Maybe because ya knew already?" I whispered.

He sighed. "A'right... fine. It was me." Bricks admitted, lowering his voice even more than the whispers we were talking in. "What, don't trust me 'round Spot or somethin'?" I asked, grinning. He shook his head.

"Nah... dat's not it. Truth is, I was jus' makin' sure he was okay. I ain't used to him actin' like dis." Bricks said. "Actin' like what?" I asked. He bit his lip and thought of the right words to use. "See... Conlon never really falls for goils. Dey always fall for him, ya know? I'se just worried 'bout him."

_Does he mean that Spot...? Hah, no way. Me and the leader of Brooklyn? Yeah right._ "You're wrong." I whispered. He snickered and rolled his eyes. "'Course I am, Shamrock." He said sarcastically. "Jus' do me a favor... Don't tell Spot 'bout dis, a'right? He's me best friend, 'nd he'd kill me if he found out I was spyin' on him."

After considering it, I nodded slowly. "A'right, I won't say anythin'." I agreed. Bricks thanked me. "Heah." He said, handing me the journal I had forgotten about. "Oh, thanks..." I replied, reminding myself of why I asked him for it in the first place.

I took the book and said goodnight to him, positioning myself so I wasn't leaning over the side of the bunk anymore. I unclasped the necklace and chose a random page in my journal. Stringing the chain out so it rested safety against the spine of the book, I closed it and put the journal under my pillow.

_Jus' forget 'bout him, Keira..._ I told myself. _Spot's probably right about Mush. And who knows? Maybe Bricks' right about Spot_.

--------

:O Shamrock's giving up on Mush!? Seems that way.

Thanks for reading. Please review with comments or criticism if you can.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the movie "Newsies"

Hey guys :) I didn't get a chance to post two yesterday, so sorry about that. Today might be the same deal, but I'll try to get a second chapter out.

While I was editing this one, I noticed I went a little italics-happy while writing this. Especially towards the end of the chapter, haha. Just figured I'd point it out.

--START--

Because they didn't have a caretaker, Spot was in charge of waking up the Brooklyn newsies in the morning. However, his patience was no where near Kloppman's. If you didn't get up within the first few minutes, Spot wasn't going to waste his time. You overslept and missed your chance to sell that day. That most likely meant no dinner.

Spot's yelling echoed off the walls of the bunkroom. "Lets go, ya bums. C'mon, get up!" He took his cane out of his belt loop and hit it hard against one of the wooden bunk posts.

I sat up quickly at the sound, nearly hitting my head on the low ceiling. Spot approached my bunk. "g'morning, Shamrock. Hurry up 'nd get ready, a'right? We gotta get our papes fast 'nd be on our way." He told me.

"Why? On our way where?" I asked sleepily. "Oh, thought I told ya...? I'm takin' ya to Manhattan today to see Jackie Boy 'nd da rest of yer friends. Dey've been aksin' for ya, 'nd I promised I'd take ya every couple of days."

I tried to smile despite the feeling of anxiety that was taking over my body. I wanted to see Jack, Race, Blink and the rest of the guys. But I wasn't so sure about seeing Mush again.

Over the past few days, I had been selling with Spot in the morning and learning to fight with him in the evenings. I never really left his side and the two of us were becoming good friends. I was doing my best to try and forget Mush, which wasn't the easiest thing for me. And now I had to see him again.

_Maybe he won't be at the lodging house_... I told myself. _Maybe I can just leave the necklace near his bed and not even have to talk to him._ "Whats a'matter, Shamrock?" Conlon asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, nuttin'. Jus' thinkin' about somethin'. I'll be ready to go in about 15 minutes, okay?" I replied. He nodded and returned to his room.

---------

Just as I sold the last of my papes, Spot and I arrived in Manhattan. We made the familiar walk to the lodging house. I stood next to Spot as he knocked loudly on the door. I could hear the voices of my friends coming from inside.

Kloppman opened the door slightly and peeked out. When he saw it was me and Spot, he grinned and opened it all the way. "Shamrock, Conlon... Come in, come in!" he said.

I searched the lobby for Mush, and let out a sigh of relief when I didn't see him. Race, who was in the middle of a card game, looked up and waved. Jack and Blink stood up from the old couch and came over to greet me. "Heya, Shamrock! How's it goin'?" Jack asked. He nodded at Spot and spit shook with him. Blink pulled me under one of his arms and messed up my hair with his hand. "Hey, Blink." I said, laughing. He grinned back at me and let me go.

"So how do ya like it in Brooklyn?" Cowboy asked. "Different, but I like it." I replied, attempting to brush through my hair with my fingers. "She's doin' real good wit da fightin'. Learnin' quickly." Spot added, smirking. "So she'll be able to come back heah soon, den?" Blink asked. Spot shrugged and his smirk disappeared. "Not _dat_ soon..."

I heard someone coming down the stairs and looked up to see Mush. He froze when he got to the bottom of the staircase and noticed I was there. I smiled weakly at him and looked back at the guys. I tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in my stomach.

"Hey, Shamrock." He said softly, avoiding my eyes. I realized he had made his way over to me. "Hi." I responded quickly. "So uh... how've ya been?" Mush asked. "A'right, I guess." He nodded slowly and looked down. "Can... Can I talk wit ya upstairs when ya get da chance? I jus'... wanna aks ya somethin'." I shrugged, not wanting to commit to either answer.

Mush nodded and sighed, interpreting it as a 'no.' He shoved his hands in his pockets and retreated upstairs. I talked to the guys for a few minutes until I just couldn't stand it anymore. _I gotta give the necklace back to Mush anyway..._ I thought, giving myself an excuse to go upstairs and talk to him.

"Guys, I'll be right back." I said. I began to walk away, but Spot grabbed my hand protectively. "Jus' be careful, Shamrock. 'Member what I said 'bout him, k?" He warned in my ear. I nodded and let go of his hand.

--------

Boots, Snoddy and Dutchy were in the bunk room when I opened the door. "Hey, Shamrock. Ya done wit yer fightin' lessons already?" Dutchy asked. I smiled and shook my head. "Nah, jus' visitin'. Any of ya guys seen Mush? I thought I saw him come up heah..." I said.

"He went out on da fire escape... Looked like somethin' was botherin' him, but he wouldn't talk to us..." Boots replied in a low voice so he wouldn't be overheard. I nodded and thanked them, going over to the windows across the room. I slid one open and saw Mush leaning against the railing. Without him noticing, I slipped outside and stood next to him.

He turned his head. "Oh... hey. I thought ya weren't gonna come?" he said nervously. I shrugged. "I gotta talk to ya, too." I replied.

"A'right, den. Go ahead." Mush said. I sighed and reached into my front pocket, pulling out my journal. Carefully opening it, I took out the necklace and held it out to him. "Here." I said. He stared at me with a puzzled expression. "I can't take dis."

"Why not? I got it for ya..." he replied. "Because, I jus' can't. I don't feel right takin' it." I didn't want to explain why. I put the necklace in his hand and turned to face the city. We were both quiet for a few minutes, but neither of us moved.

"What did ya wanna aks me?" I said quietly. Mush shook his head and glanced at the necklace in his hand. "Never mind. I think I already know da answer." He went in through the open window and left me alone on the fire escape.

----------

"Why aren't we going to the docks?" I asked as I followed Spot. He didn't stop to talk to me. "You'll see...I'm teachin' ya somethin' different today." He called over his shoulder. We had just gotten back from Manhattan and it was starting to get dark.

Without warning he turned into an alleyway. There were bottles lined up on crates against the far wall. He pulled his slingshot out of his back pocket. "You gotta be kiddin' me..." I mumbled. Spot laughed. "Ah, come on, Shamrock. Your aim can't be _dat_ bad."

"Says who? You haven't seen me shoot yet." I replied. He grinned and fished in his pocket for a few marbles. "Watch." Spot said, taking one out and loading it into the slingshot. He quickly pulled back the strap and let it go, making it look effortless. The marble flew through the air and hit one of the middle bottles. The glass shattered everywhere within a matter of seconds.

"Wipe dat smirk off your face, Conlon." I told him. He laughed and handed me the slingshot and a marble. "Heah. Put dat hand there and load the shooter wit the other." He instructed. It took me a good two minutes to get the marble to stay. When I finally shot it, it traveled about 5 feet before it hit the ground.

I tried over and over again, but I couldn't hit the bottle. I ended up doing more damage to my hand than I did to the bottles. I sighed. "I dunno if I'm gonna be able to do this. Maybe we should jus' stick wit punchin' 'nd kickin'. I don't got me own slingshot anyway." Spot shook his head. "We'll get you one when ya get good at it. Besides, ya barely even gave yourself a chance. I couldn't hit da bottle when I first started either. A'course I was better dan you, but..." I punched him lightly on the shoulder before he could finish.

"A'right... Lemme help ya." He said. He stood behind me and put his hand over mine so we were both holding the slingshot. Spot put his other hand on my arm that was holding the band and guided it backwards. "Now let go." He whispered. I released the rubber band from my fingers and the marble went straight forward. It hit one of the bottles dead on, causing the glass to explode.

I looked over my shoulder to see Spot smiling at me. Our faces were a few inches from each other, and he was still holding on to my hand. I smiled back. "Good." He whispered. Neither of us moved as his smoky blue eyes stared into mine. Before I knew what was happening, he leaned towards me and pressed his lips against mine.

The second he did, I thought of Mush.

I forced the thoughts out of my head. Spot finally pulled away after a while. "Shamrock, be me goil." He whispered. It sounded more like an order than it did a question. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and avoided his eyes. I was completely taken off guard and had no idea what to say. Mush kept coming back into my mind, but I continuously pushed the thought away. i Mush doesn't care. You're nothing but another girl to him. Forget about him. /i I told myself. I nodded slowly. "Sure, Spot. I'll be your goil."

-----------

Over the next few weeks, my visits to Manhattan became fewer and fewer until we just completely stopped going. I eventually learned everything I needed to know about fighting, but I didn't return to Manhattan. Although neither Spot nor I said it out loud, it was assumed I wouldn't be going back. Not while I was Spot's girl, anyways.

Newsies from all around the city knew I was Spot's girl by the permanent hold he kept on my hand. I was always with him. I loved being around Spot all the time. I considered him one of my closest friends, but every time he kissed me it felt like something was missing.

I didn't tell him, but more than anything I missed my friends in Manhattan. I tried to push both them and Mush out of my mind, but both things seemed impossible.

I had been at the Brooklyn Lodging house roughly three months by the time late autumn hit. It hit hard, bringing cold weather that hinted at a harsh winter. That was the first time in weeks I had seen any of my friends from Manhattan.

----------

From upstairs, we heard a faint knock at the door. "I'll get it." I offered. Spot took his arm off my shoulders and I stood up. I hurried to the door, jumping down the last few stairs.

A gust of cold wind hit me after I turned the door knob. "Jack!" I exclaimed. He smiled at me and pulled me in for a hug. His hands were icy. "God, Jack... you'se practically frozen. Hurry up, get inside." I said, pulling him in and closing the door.

"What da hell are ya doin' walkin' heah from Manhattan in dis cold?!" I asked. He laughed. "I needed to make sure ya weren't dead or nuttin'." Jack said, his teeth chattering. I raised an eyebrow at him. "And why would I be dead?" I asked.

"What are we supposed to think? We haven't seen ya in months!" He replied. I nodded and my smile disappeared. "I know, I'm sorry... I planned on goin' to see ya guys but..."

"But stuff changed. I understand. Shamrock, I know ya probably wanna stay heah now dat you'se Spot's goil 'nd everythin', but come back 'nd visit us once in a while. We miss ya." He said.

"Heya, Jackie Boy!" Spot said, coming down the stairs. "What brings ya to Brooklyn?" He asked. "Jus' checkin' to see how ya goil's doin', Spot." Cowboy replied. Spot grinned and put his arm around my waist. "Anyway, I'm glad ya came down, Conlon. I was jus' 'bout to ask Shamrock if she wanted to come back to Manhattan wit me for the day. Da guys have been aksin' bout her since she's been gone for so long. She'll be back by tonight." Jack said.

Spot shrugged. "Dat sounds fine, I guess. If she wants to go..." I nodded quickly, eager to see my friends again. "Sure." I said. "Lemme jus' get my stuff, 'nd we'll leave soon as Jack gets da feelin' back in his toes."

---------

Even though it was only autumn, the harsh wind made the temperature feel even lower than it was. The heavy clouds above us blocked out the sunlight and made the street dark. We were more than halfway to Manhattan when the first snowfall of the year started to fall.

The wind caused the snowflakes to swirl around in the street before they finally settled to the ground. It began to snow harder and I pulled my jacket closer around myself to block out the cold as we walked.

"So how are da guys?" I asked, breaking the silence between Jack and I. "What?" He said, yelling over the howling of the wind. "How are the guys?" I repeated, raising my voice so I could be heard.

Jack nodded to show he understood me that time. "They're alright. A lot of 'em are gettin' sick because of da cold, though. But what 'bout you? How ya doin' in Brooklyn?" He asked. I shrugged. "A'right... I guess I kinda miss Manhattan, though..."

"How come ya didn't come back then?" Jack said. I thought about it. "Spot." I answered simply. He nodded and there was a pause from either of us saying anything.

"Ya know... call me crazy, but I sorta always thought dat you and _Mush_ would get togedda'..." Jack said. That caught me off guard. I shrugged off his comment and kept my head down, shoving my hands nervously in my pockets. "Somethin' tells me you ain't tellin' me somethin'." Cowboy added.

"Nah, it's nuttin'... Spot jus' told me somethin' a while ago. It ain't important, though." I replied, waving the remark away. "Spot told ya somethin' about Mush?" Jack asked. I nodded. "What did he tell ya?"

"It don't matter." I replied, starting to walk faster. Cowboy shook his head, showing that he wasn't going to give up that easily. "C'mon, Shamrock. Tell me! I ain't gonna tell nobody..." He begged, following after me. I sighed. "He jus' told me dat Mush... Well, dat he's had a lot of goils. Said he'd flirt with any goil he comes across." I said casually, trying to make it sound like it didn't bother me.

Jack's mouth dropped open. "What? Spot told ya dat?!" He asked. I nodded and rolled my eyes. "Yeah... what part of dis are ya havin' trouble understandin'?" I replied. Jack ignored my sarcasm and closed his eyes, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Oh no..." he mumbled. I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to explain. "Look, Shamrock... Spot's one of me close friends, but sometimes..." He paused and took a deep breath.

"Sometimes headlines aren't da only things he exaggerates." Cowboy said. I stopped walking and stared at him. "Wait...Ya mean to tell me Spot made all dat up!?"

Jack bit his lip. "Look, I ain't sayin' Spot's _lyin..._ Maybe he got da wrong idea about Mush, because Mush ain't like dat... But Spot likes to be on top. He ain't used to bein' beat in _anythin'_. Including gettin' goils."

"But even _you_ said Mush got a lot of goils! When I foist met ya guys and I asked ya 'bout him... dat's what you said!" I exclaimed. Jack shook his head. "Mush get's a lot of goils because _they_ all come to _him._ But I ain't lyin' when I say he rarely goes after 'em. Actually, Shamrock..." Jack paused. "Never mind. I shouldn't." He muttered.

"Shouldn't what?" I asked. Cowboy just shook his head and smirked. I punched him playfully on the arm. "Spill it, Jack!" He hesitated and I shot him a look. Jack put up his hands in defense. "A'right, a'right!" He moved closer to me and whispered something into my ear. "To be honest, you'se da foist goil I've seen Mush all worked up ova'..."

My mouth dropped slightly open. "What do ya mean?" I said slowly. A grin spread across Jack's face. "Race ya back to da lodgin' house!" He yelled. He turned and sprinted down the block.

"No, Jack! Jack, come back heah!" I called after him. When he didn't turn back around I sighed and started running after him.

------

Three blocks later, I got to the lodging house. Jack was waiting for me on the stoop, out of breath but grinning widely. He stepped inside the door and scanned the room with his eyes. "Now where's Mush... I think da two of ya are ready for a lil' talk." He muttered. "Jack Kelly, you are da biggest pain in the ass I've ever—"

"Shamrock!"

"Hey guys, Shamrock's back!"

"Finally!"

"Woah, She's actually alive!?"

I laughed and waved to the guys as they came over. "Where ya been, kid?" Race said, messing up my hair. "Finally decided ya missed us?" Skittery asked. I smiled and nodded.

"A'right..." Jack said, raising his voice so it could be heard over the noise. "Any of ya know where Mush is?" he asked. I shot him a glare but he just smiled. A few of the newsies shook their heads. "I do." Specs said. "He went out for a walk 'bout an hour ago. Said he had somewhere to go 'nd he'd be back tonight."

"In dis weather? Is he crazy!?" Itey exclaimed. Blink shrugged. "I dunno what's eatin' him. He's been real distant da last few months..." He replied. The guys all agreed.

-------

I sat around the lobby for a while, talking with some of the guys. After a few card games, which I lost horribly at, I went over to Jack. "Maybe we should get goin', Cowboy. It got dark a few hours ago." He nodded and stood up.

"I dunno if dat's such a good idea, guys." Snipeshooter said from over by the window. "Da storm got pretty bad out dere." He said, moving aside so we could see out the window. Despite the darkness, we could see that everything was covered in white. The branches on the few trees blew around wildly. The snow was so deep that it was impossible to tell where the sidewalk ended and the street began.

Jack went over to the door. When he opened it, a pile of snow that had been leaning against the door tumbled into the lobby. The rest of us could immediately feel the chill that filled the room. With much difficulty, he pushed the door closed and turned to me. "I think you'se spendin' da night heah, Shamrock. It's too dangerous to go back to Brooklyn right now. I'm sure Spot'll understand." Jack said.

Spot was the last thing I was worried about. I was furious with him for lying to me and I was in no rush to get back to Brooklyn. Jack signed my name for me in Kloppman's lodging book and the newsies began heading upstairs.

--------

Uh oh :O Spot lied to Shamrock... And where's Mush!?

Thanks for reading, guys. Please review :) I'd love to hear your feedback.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the movie "Newsies"

Hey there. Alright, I came home from school sick today, so I figured since I have some time I'd post a few chapters :)

Oh yeah-- and thanks so much to the people who have been reviewing!

--START--

Despite how comfortable my old bunk felt to me, I still couldn't sleep. It was almost 2 in the morning and Mush still wasn't back. The only other places he spent time at were Medda's and Tibby's, and both would be closed at this hour. That meant he was just walking around outside.

I decided Jack was right. I had to talk to Mush. We had been avoiding each other since I gave him back the necklace, and there was a lot I needed to say to him. I got out of bed and cautiously opened the door so I wouldn't wake anyone else up.

Kloppman might have woken up if I went down to the lobby, so I stayed in the hallway between the door and staircase. I sat against the wall in the dark, waiting for Mush to come back. That way I could catch him before he went into the bunk room.

--------

Something hit my outstretched legs and then hit the floor. I was woken out of my sleep. My eyes opened but the room was too dark to see anything. I heard someone mutter a soft "ow..." and then they stood up again. "Mush?" I whispered. The shuffling stopped instantly and there was a short pause.

"Shamrock?" He squinting to see me through the darkness of the room. "What... What are ya doin' heah?" He asked, kneeling down next to me. I think his question was referring as to why I was asleep in the hallway of the lodging house, but I didn't want to tell him I was waiting for him to come home. "The storm was too bad to go back to Brooklyn tonight..." I whispered back.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, but he nodded anyway. "So you were jus' visiting Manhattan?" he asked. I nodded.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you, huh?" I said nervously, trying to make conversation. He shrugged. "Yeah... Ya haven't come here since..." Mush paused to think. "Since ya became Spot's goil." He added quietly.

Recalling what Jack said, I looked down and avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, well I ain't his goil anymore." I muttered more to myself than to him. Mush overheard me and looked up. "What? Why not?" He asked.

"Spot... uh..." I began. I didn't know what to say. i Spot told me lies about you, so I decided to be his girl instead so I could forget about you/i No way. As much as I hated lying to Mush, telling him the truth could start trouble. "Spot got a new goil." I said, telling him the first thing that came to mind.

"Wow... uh, Shamrock... That's gotta be real hard for ya. I'm sorry." Mush said sincerely. I shook my head, refusing to let him feel pity for me. "No... don't be. I'll be fine. Soon as I tell him off for what he did, anyway." I added, referring to the lies Spot said about Mush.

It was silent between us for a while and Mush stood up. I pushed myself off the wall and also got to my feet. "Ya know, he's stupid to choose anudder goil over you, Shamrock." He whispered nervously, looking down at his shifting feet. "You'se amazing, and he's gonna realize dat soon enough..." I could just barely see that he was blushing.

I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Mush..." I whispered back. I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but at the last minute he turned his head towards me. His lips touched mine. I stayed like that for a split second before I suddenly pulled back in surprise.

When was finally able to choke out a few words, they came out sounding pretty stupid. "W-why'd you do that?" I stuttered. Mush bit his lip and averted his eyes. The silence in the room seemed unbearably heavy until he took an unsteady deep breath. "Because... I-I love ya, Shamrock." He stuttered quietly.

His words stunned me. I opened my mouth to say something but no sound came out. I was too shocked to move, so I just gaped at him. I knew exactly what I wanted to say to him, but my brain was moving too quickly to respond.

After a few moments, he still didn't get an answer from me. He faced the wall and forcefully brought his forehead down on it. Mush sighed and closed his eyes, leaving his head against the wall. "I knew I shouldn't have said nuttin'... I shoulda learned when ya gave me back da necklace..." He muttered.

He shook his head and backed away from the wall. "I gotta go..." Mush whispered. Instead of heading for the bunk room, he turned and darted down the stairs. I was finally broken out of my daze when I heard the lodging house door shut.

I went after him, sprinting out of the door and into the cold. The snow was falling even harder now and it was up to my knees. A combination of the heavy snow and the darkness of the street made it hard to see. I frantically searched for Mush, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

I called his name out but my voice was lost in the wind. My eyes went down to his footprints that were leading down the sidewalk. I could follow them, but they were quickly being covered up by the fresh falling snow. Instead, I turned back into the lodging house.

"Jack... Jack!" I whispered, shaking his shoulder. He mumbled something inaudible and rolled over. "JACK!" He opened his eyes in a panic. "Wha?!" he said, sitting up. I quickly covered his mouth with a pillow, shushing him before anyone else woke up. "Mush's gone... He ran away." I whispered anxiously.

Jack turned to me, patiently removing the pillow from his face. "Shamrock, calm down... Now what happened?" He whispered. "I went out in the hall to wait for him, 'nd we started talkin', 'nd he left when I didn't answer 'nd I tried to follow his footsteps in da snow but they was almost gone 'nd da storm is real bad so I dunno if..."

Cowboy put his hands on my shoulders to stop me from talking. "Woah, woah... Take a deep breath, a'right?" I obeyed, but it didn't help the least bit. Jack continued. "Look, I really have no idea what da hell you'se talkin' 'bout... But Mush probably jus' got upset 'bout whatever happened 'nd went out to get some air... I bet he'll be back when ya wake up tomorrow. Den da two of ya can sort dis out. As for you, go get some sleep, okay? You obviously need some... "Jack muttered.

He fell backwards into his bed again and pulled the blankets up over his head. I sighed and went over to my bunk, telling myself that Jack was right and I was overreacting. I tried to sleep, but I was restless. I couldn't stop tossing and turning, due to a feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me everything _wasn't_ alright. Around 5 AM, I finally dozed off into a light sleep.

---------

Kloppman came in to wake everyone up. My eyes opened and I sat up instantly, feeling like I had only been asleep for a couple of minutes. I looked over at Mush's bunk, but it was empty. My heart sank. Jack glanced at me and came over, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Shamrock... He'll be back."

I wasn't too convinced. "What if he got hurt or somethin'? Someone coulda' jumped him... He _did_ leave in da middle of da night..." I replied. Jack paused and bit his lip. "I'll tell da guys to look out for him while they're sellin', okay? We'll find him..." Jack reassured me.

Despite the storm Cowboy offered to take me back to Brooklyn, but I said no. I wasn't returning to Brooklyn until Mush came back. That way I was sure he was alright. I would sleep and sell in Manhattan until we found him.

The storm had lightened up since the night before, but it still didn't stop completely. It was a hassle to get around in the deep snow, but it was even more of a hassle to sell our papes. The cold kept customers from going outside, which meant we didn't have many people to sell to.

Around noon, I was too exhausted and discouraged to keep selling. I retired to Tibby's for a small lunch and some warmth to find that most of the newsies were already there. I sat down at a table with Racetrack, Itey, Jack and Specs. They mumbled their disgruntled hellos and returned to the menus. Everyone seemed to be in a bad mood for one reason or another.

"Any of ya guys seen Mush?" I asked hopefully. They all shook their heads. "I asked 'round, 'nd nobody's seen him in Manhattan..." Jack said. "Maybe he went to anudder lodging house?" Specs suggested.

I shrugged. "Hope so... He can't be okay if he's wanderin' around in dis storm." I replied, glancing out the window. "When da snow stops we should go out 'nd look for him..." Racetrack said.

---------

Over the next few days, the snowfall finally stopped. We had all made attempts to go out and look for Mush, but we didn't get very far. Jack didn't get any word back from the other lodging houses.

I couldn't go myself because of the chance that they might recognize me, but I asked Dutchy to stop by the refuge to make sure the bulls didn't get Mush for something. He wasn't there.

By the fourth day, a lot of the newsies had given up searching. They assumed he was either out of the city or dead by then. The lodging house had a distressed mood to it whenever the newsies were around. All of them seemed tired and burdened instead of their usual carefree selves.

I barely sold any papers, which meant I barely ate anything. However, I ignored the steady pain in my stomach and kept a constant eye out for Mush. I blamed myself for his leaving. I kept telling myself that if I would have said _something_ to him... If I would have just responded with a few words that let him know what was going through my mind... Then he wouldn't have run off like that. He would still be at the lodging house, completely safe.

The snow was finally beginning to melt away and the sun started peeking through the clouds. Instead of finishing our selling around 7:00 like we usually did in the summer, we began heading to the lodging house early. Most of us were back around 5 due to exhaustion that was a combination of stress and the cold weather.

I entered the lobby to find that the newsies were sprawled out over the couches and the floor. Instead of chatting to each other like they usually did, they were quiet for the most part. A few of them were playing cards, but it served as an empty distraction for them.

I sat down next to Blink, who was hanging upside-down on the couch. His legs were over the backrest and he let his head hang above the floor. "Hey, Shamrock." He said softly without looking over at me. I replied with a weak smile. Blink's good eye glazed over as he zoned out, staring at nothing in particular across the room.

"I miss him. Dis place ain't da same without him." He finally muttered. I nodded, knowing right away who he was talking about. "Yeah, me too..." I could feel tears rushing to my eyes. "Ya think he's okay?" I choked out in an unsteady voice.

It had been almost five days since Mush left, and everyone had just about lost hope that he was alive. He had nowhere to go besides the lodging house and he couldn't survive outside in the cold. I heard Blink nervously swallow the lump in his throat, but he didn't reply.

The door burst open, startling all of us. Racetrack stumbled in out of breath and looking horrible. One of his eyes was bruised up in addition to some scratches on his face and arms. "Race!! What happened!?" Blink exclaimed, sitting up quickly.

Race shook his head. He struggled to get words out between his gasps for air. "I'm fine... Mush ain't, though..." He opened the door even wider to reveal that he was dragging a body behind him.

Mush's eyes were closed and his body was limp. Judging by the pale color of his skin, he had been outside for a while when Race found him. We all rushed over to help Racetrack carry him in. He was placed carefully on the couch and Bumlets ran to go get Kloppman.

Kloppman quickly examined Mush while Race talked, nervously puffing away at a cigar. "I was at da races, 'nd dese guys showed up... I owed 'em money from a bet I made a few months ago, but I didn't have it. Da bums tried to jump me, 'nd dey threw a couple of punches before I got away. I was afraid dey was followin' me, so I took a different route back heah to throw 'em off a little. Through Harlem. He was unconscious when I found him. Under a pile of snow in an alley..." Race explained.

"Dis is real bad... Real serious. I can't treat him. We gotta get him a doctor." Kloppman mumbled. The old man looked up at our worried faces. "Snoddy, go wit Boots and Snipeshooter to da hospital. Ask for Doctor George Wrighton. He's a good friend of mine." He instructed. The three boys grabbed their jackets and scrambled out the door. "Da rest of ya... Get him as many blankets as ya can find. And a damp rag. Make sure da waters cold. Hurry it up!"

The doctor arrived within an hour. He entered with Snoddy, Snipeshooter, and Boots trailing close behind. "Move aside." He demanded. The newsies all obeyed and stepped out of his way. He pulled a chair over to the couch where Mush was lying. Placing his bag on the table, he inspected Mush.

The air in the room was silent and uneasy. The rest of us waited in suspense as the doctor said nothing but "hmm..." and "Oh dear..." every few minutes. After taking the thermometer out of Mush's mouth and reading it, he finally looked up to speak to Kloppman.

"It seems he's been unconscious for at least a few days now. The cold has done a great deal of damage. His fever is extremely high. Make sure he's kept warm all the time, and try to get him to sip water every so often." The doctor fished in his bag for something and pulled out a small bottle of green liquid medicine. He placed it on the table. "Give him a spoonful of this twice a day. It may be a struggle getting him to swallow it while he's insensible, but try. It may help or it may not. We'll see."

Kloppman nodded glumly and shook his hand. "Thank ya, George." He said. "Call for us if it gets any worse. As of now, there's nothing else we can do." Dr. Wrighton told him. He picked up his bag before he turned and left the lodging house.

The room was dead silent as we stood looking Mush. We could barely hear his shallow breathing. The calm, lifeless expression on his face caused me to have to fight back tears. Race put his arm around my shoulders to comfort me, but he bit his lip and stared at Mush with a worried look on his face.

Kloppman took a deep breath. "I guess we'll leave him down here. Next to the fire, so he stays warm." He said. "I'll get up every few hours to make sure the fire don't burn out..." Cowboy offered.

"Someone's gonna have to watch over him all da time..." Skittery said. "I will... I'm at da lodging house all day while you'se sellin', anyway." Kloppman replied. Crutchy shook his head. "Dat won't woik... What if ya gotta go out for somethin'? Ya can't sit in da lobby all day lookin' after him... Ya got udder stuff to do 'round heah."

"But neither can we. We gotta sell..." Snipeshooter argued. Jack quieted everyone. "We'll split up da time. Ya know, do shifts." Jack said. "One person will watch him until noon, den they'll go out 'nd sell while anudder person stays heah. At night someone'll sleep down in da lobby, and then da next day it'll be two more people's toins to watch him."

We all thought about it and agreed. Jack's plan would work perfectly. We all got a chance to sell, Kloppman could do his usual work around the lodging house, and most importantly Mush was being looked after. It was all the rest of us could do besides hope he was going to be alright.

------------

So from what I've gathered, half of you guys are for Spot and half of you are for Mush... Quite a dilemma we have here, huh:)

Thanks for reading, and please review if you get the chance.

I'll have another chapter out pretty soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie "Newsies"

Do you guys know what this is!? Yep, this is the second to last chapter :O

Sorry it's so short. I would have posted the rest of the story in this chapter, but I have a lot of editing to do towards the very end.

As always, thanks so much to the people who have been reviewing. You guys are the absolute greatest.

--START--

Three days later, Mush still hadn't woken up. Still, he seemed to be responding to the medicine. His breathing wasn't as shallow anymore and he would move around in his sleep quite often.

As for the rest of us, we were back to selling normally except for when it was our turn to watch Mush. The snow was almost completely melted, and Manhattan turned back into the busting city that we knew well.

I kept putting off returning to Brooklyn. At first I told myself I would go back when we found Mush. Now I didn't want to go back until Mush woke up.

-------

It was around noon when Crutchy found me in Central Park. I was almost done selling my papes. He approached me with a wide grin on his face. "Shamrock... Pie Eater sent me to tell ya it's your turn to look after Mush." He said, still smiling.

I nodded and hastily counted the number of papers I had left. "Well, you'se happy today." I said. He nodded quickly. "Mush woke up." I immediately looked up from my papes. "What?" I replied.

"It was Pie Eater's turn to watch over him dis mornin'. Said he woke up. But it was only for a few minutes before he fell asleep again." Crutchy explained. My heart leapt. "So he's gonna be okay?!" I asked hopefully. He shrugged and nodded at the same time. "Looks like it."

I rushed back to the lodging house so Pie Eater could leave and catch the afternoon edition. I had hoped that by some chance Mush would be awake when I got back, but he wasn't.

Mush had kicked off some of his blankets in his sleep, so I covered him again with them. Reaching for the glass of water next to the couch, I brought it to his lips and carefully tipped the bottom upwards. I made sure to do it slowly so he wouldn't choke, and the water trickled gradually into his mouth.

After putting the glass down again, I placed my hand on his forehead to see if his fever had gone down. Although he still felt a little warm, he wasn't burning up anymore. His fever had finally broke.

I slid my hand down to the side of his face and kept it there for a few moments. As I watched him sleep, I thought about what he said to me. If I had just responded with five little words, we wouldn't be in this situation. It wouldn't change anything now and I knew that, but it still had to be said. "I love ya too, Mush..." I whispered, although I knew he couldn't hear me.

I drew my hand back and grabbed the chair that hadn't been moved from beside the couch since the doctor sat in it. Sitting on it sideways, I folded my arms over the back of the chair which was facing Mush. I sighed and closed my eyes, resting my head in my arms. I stayed motionless like that for a couple of minutes.

"Stuff really switched 'round on us, huh?" Even though his voice sounded weak and hoarse, it was still unmistakable. I quickly picked my head up and stared at him. A frail smile spread across his lips. "If I remember right, last time it was _you_ we found unconscious out in da snow."

It took me a minute to realize what Mush was talking about. He was referring to when I was 8 years old after I had just come to America. I recalled that Mush, along with a few other newsies, had found me on the stoop of the lodging house buried in snow.

I laughed purely out of relief that he was awake. "How do ya feel?" I asked, turning my chair around and sitting on it correctly. Mush shrugged. "Not exactly good... Sorta weak, but better den I was I guess." He replied.

"I talked to Pie Eater a lil' bit dis mornin'... It's really been almost a week since I left heah?" He asked. I nodded slowly as I poured some medicine into a spoon. Putting my hand under it so it wouldn't drip onto the floor, I carefully brought it up to his mouth. "Here." I said.

He swallowed the liquid and slightly stuck out his tongue. "Blegh... dat stuff tastes horrible." He said. I smiled. "Yeah, well horrible tasting or not, dat stuff basically saved your ass." I replied. Mush laughed unsteadily, which ended up turning into a few feeble coughs.

"Oh god..." I muttered. He finally stopped coughing and rested his head back on the pillow. "Mush... please, don't ever pull anythin' like dat again. You know how worried we were 'bout ya? Look, I ain't tryin' to sound like a mudda' or nuttin', but..."

"I know... It was stupid, I'm sorry..." He whispered. "Don't be sorry..." I muttered, knowing it was just as much my fault as it was his. "Jus'... don't do it again. Promise?" I asked. Mush nodded.

"Listen... 'bout what I said before I left... I-" He started. I shook my head and stopped him before he said anything else. "Don't worry 'bout it... At least not right now. Jus' get some rest now, a'right? We'll talk when you'se feelin' better." I said. Mush sighed but nodded, closing his eyes.

-------

Fifteen minutes after Mush had gone back to sleep, the lodging house door opened. I expected it to be Kloppman, who had gone out to the shops to pick up a few things. I was taken off guard when I looked up to see Spot.

He paused in the doorway when he saw me sitting in a chair next to Mush. He took a deep breath. "How's he doin'?" Spot said, barely above a whisper. I shrugged. "Says he ain't feelin' so good, but at least he woke up." I replied, refusing to look Spot in the eye.

He walked over and sat down on a nearby couch. "I came heah to Manhattan to look for ya... I ran into Jackie Boy while he was sellin'. Told me you were back at da lodgin' house lookin' after Mush. I hoid he was hoit, but I didn't know it was dis serious..." Spot said, shooting Mush a sympathetic glance.

I nodded and swallowed the lump that was beginning to rise in my throat. "I take it dat wasn't da only thing Jack told ya 'bout..." I replied, trying to sound confident. Knowing Cowboy, he had definitely mentioned something to Spot about how I knew the truth now. Everything Spot said concerning Mush was a lie.

Spot let his gaze drop to the floor. "Yeah... he did." he muttered, understanding right away what I was talking about. "Shamrock... I know you'se mad 'nd I don't blame ya... But jus' heah me out foist, a'right?" He said. I rested my head in my hand and patiently waited for him to explain himself.

"Foist off... I'm sorry for what I did. Da last thing I wanted was for ya to be mad at me. See, I'se hoid things 'bout Mush... dat a lotta goils like him 'nd stuff. So what I said wasn't completely a lie... I jus' expanded on da truth a lil."

"Dat still don't make it right." I pointed out. Spot nodded. "I know it don't, and I ain't tryin' to defend what I did. But I jus' wanted you to know dat I had me reasons." He said. I arched at eyebrow at him.

"I _really_ like ya, Shamrock. You ain't like da udder goils I know, 'nd I guess me ego was too big to let myself get beat out by anudder guy. Guess I wanted to keep ya wit me for as long as I could. Since ya didn't come back after da storm ended, I'm assumin' you'se furious wit me. You'se got a right to be, but I jus' wanna let ya know I'm sorry."

I sighed and it was quiet as I thought about what he said. "A'right..." I mumbled finally. "But I don't think I'm da only one you should apologize to." Spot glanced over at Mush. "I know... Tell him I said I'm sorry too, okay? 'nd tell him I hope he's back on his feet soon."

I nodded. "I will." Spot held up a bundle of clothes he was carrying with him. "Heah." He said, handing it to me. "My stuff..." I muttered. "How'd ya know I was gonna stay in Manhattan?" I asked.

Spot shrugged. "I sorta figured ya wanted dis between us to be through, ya know?... Besides. A guy can tell when his goil wants to be wit someone else." He said, tilting his head towards Mush. Spot smiled slightly at me and held out his hand to shake mine. "Friends?" he asked.

I laughed and rolled my eyes, pushing his hand aside. I hugged him instead, which seemed to shock him. "Friends." I repeated after I broke the hug.

---------

Mush slowly progressed over time, getting better with each day. When he was able to stand without feeling weak, Kloppman allowed him to move back up to the bunk room. He didn't have to take the medicine anymore and we didn't have to look after him continuously, but he still wasn't allowed to sell.

Kloppman refused to let him leave the lodging house. The rest of us would pitch in a few bits so we could bring him back dinner from Tibby's every night. Mush felt extremely guilty about it, but we practically forced him to eat his dinner and told him it wasn't a big deal.

Even though I told Mush we'd talk about what happened when he got better, neither of us brought it up. However, I did talk to Jack about it. He threatened that if I didn't tell Mush how I felt about him soon, then Jack was going to spill the beans for me.

---------

I heard Kloppman coming up the stairs, but I closed my eyes tightly and hung on to the last few seconds of warmth before I would have to get out of bed. "A'right, Let's go! Time to—" The door swung open and Kloppman paused. "What da...?" He mumbled.

I opened my eyes and saw that the rest of the newsies were already up. I was the only one still in bed. Kloppman exited the bunk room, scratching his head in confusion and muttering something about "Never once during his time as the lodging house caretaker..." I sat up and looked around.

The guys smirked and exchanged glances while they got ready, trying to pretend like nothing was happening. I stood up and crossed my arms. "A'right... anyone wanna tell me what's goin' on?" I asked. They all ignored me, but their grins became wider.

I glared at Jack, who looked the guiltiest out of all of them. "Jack..." I said cautiously, glancing around the room. "Where exactly is Mush?" I asked. He put his cowboy hat around his neck and let it hang against his back. "Went to Tibby's this mornin' to get breakfast since he hasn't been out in so long. Maybe ya should go join him." He suggested.

I laughed nervously and went over to my bunk, grabbing my change of clothes out of the drawer. "I would love to join him, Cowboy, but I can't. I have to buy me papes before dey sell out." I replied, heading for the washroom. Jack stepped in front of me. "Aw, dat ain't a problem. I'll buy 'em for ya 'nd give them to you when ya get back."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll go to Tibby's if ya admit dat this was all set up." I said. Cowboy held up his hands in defense. "I ain't sayin' nuttin'." I sighed and tossed him the money for my papes. Walking past him, I went towards the sinks. I was washing my face when Jack approached me again.

"Oh, 'nd Shamrock?" He said, tapping me on the shoulder. "Bring your journal wit ya, okay?" I dried my face with a towel and looked up at him. "Why?" I asked, puzzled. Jack shrugged and went back into the bunk room. "No reason." He called over his shoulder.

-------

So everything's cleared up with Spot, and Mush and the guys set something up for Shamrock... Hmm.

Anyway, told you it was short. I'll have the last chapter out as soon as I can.

Thanks for reading, and please review :)


	9. Chapter 9

I got ready quickly and tucked my journal into my pocket before leaving. The air was cold, but despite that it was going to be a beautiful day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as I walked in the opposite direction of the circulation desk.

Tibby's was deserted except for the couple of workers who were cleaning the empty tables. The sun was just rising. It filled the restaurant with bright beams of light where the windows allowed the rays to filter through.

I searched the small restaurant and spotted Mush at the far end. He was sitting at a table next to a window, staring outside. "Hey, Mush..." I said, approaching him. He looked up and smiled. "Shamrock... What brings ya to Tibby's dis early in da mornin'?" He asked, obviously aware of the answer. He motioned to the seat across from him.

I laughed and sat down, deciding to play along. "Guess I jus' felt like some breakfast. Ya know, da guys were sure actin' strange dis mornin'. They were all awake when Kloppman came to get 'em up. Imagine dat." I said, placing my chin in the palm of my hand. Mush grinned and shrugged. "Dat _is_ weird. I wonder why?"

The waitress came by to take our orders. "I'll jus' have a tea 'nd a buttered roll, please." I said. "I'll have da same, 'cept coffee instead of tea. Thanks." Mush said. She took our menus and he turned back to me. "So, what were you sayin' about da guys actin' strange?"

"Jack told me to bring my journal heah." I said. Mush blushed and bit his lip, trying to hold back his smirk. "Can't imagine why." He muttered. I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Well, why don't we see?" I asked, taking the book out of my pocket. Mush shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He said. He nervously drummed his fingers on the table and stared out the window at the sunrise, stealing glances at me every few seconds.

I opened my journal and something fell out from between the cover and the first page. It was a note that was folded up. "Shamrock" was scribbled across the paper.

I raised my eyebrow at Mush before I unfolded it, but he just smiled shyly and looked down. When I opened it, a message was written in Gaelic. Although the handwriting was cluttered it was still legible. _Bí__mo__cailín_. I quickly translated the message in my head.

_Be my girl_.

I smiled and stared at the message for longer than I had to, allowing the words to sink in. I took my pen out of the spine of my journal. Below his message, I wrote "ar ndóigh" and slid the piece of paper towards him. He looked down at it, but a look of confusion spread across his face. "I dunno what dat means... I got some help wit what I wrote ya, but udder than dat I'se clueless." Mush said. I laughed and took back the note. I drew a line through the Gaelic and wrote "Of course" next to it.

Mush read it and grinned. Then he suddenly leaned over the table and kissed me. My knees went weak and my heart began pounding out of my chest. I felt like I was ready to melt into a puddle on the floor, and I had I not been sitting down at the time then I might have. This time I kissed him back. We pulled away only when the waitress cleared her throat, indicating that she was present and irritated. She rolled her eyes and put our food down on the table.

I stirred my tea, letting the steam curl in front of my face. I was hesitant to drink it because of the butterflies in my stomach. "So all da guys were in on dis, huh?" I asked. Mush laughed. "Originally I jus' asked Cowboy to help wit it... but of course all of 'em found out one way or anudder..."

---------

"Looks like Mush got used to sleepin' in late." Blink said, motioning at Mush's bed where there was still a lump beneath the blankets. Everyone else was awake and getting ready to go down to the distribution desk.

Kloppman was finally allowing Mush to go out and sell again. Today was his first day back as a newsie since he had gotten sick. I exited the washroom stall after changing into my clothes for the day. "Hey Shamrock, go wake ya boyfriend up, will ya?" Jack said without turning from the mirror, wiping the excess shaving cream off his face. I rolled my eyes but grinned anyway at his comment.

Climbing up to Mush's top bunk, I sat on the foot of the bed for a few seconds, finding myself smiling at him. He looked so content in his sleep. So perfect. I thought back to that past summer, when I had laid eyes on him for the first time since I was eight years old. When I toppled out of the refuge cell and onto him, I'd never imagined that he would be mine and I would be his.

I didn't want to wake him, but I had to. I crawled over and put my hand on his chest, lightly shaking him. "Mush... Mush, get up. Come on." I whispered. He groaned and rolled over onto his back. "Don't wanna..." he muttered. I laughed. "Ya gotta... C'mon, we gotta sell papes..." I said. Mush kept his eyes shut and didn't respond.

I leaned over, giving him a kiss on the nose. Then I kissed him softly on the lips. As I pulled away, he put his arm around my waist and pulled me down again. His lips met with mine. "A'right, I'm up..." he muttered into the kiss.

I laughed and rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. We were both silent as he stroked through my hair with his fingers.

"Would ya look at dat? We send 'er up dere to get him up, 'nd now they're both asleep." I heard Blink say. I lifted my head and saw him, along with a couple other newsies, standing by the bunk. Blink had a smirk on his face and his arms were crossed over his chest.

"Get a move on, loverboy." Race said. I grinned and Mush rolled his eyes, sitting up. "Okay, a'right, we'se goin'." Mush replied, jumping down from the bunk. He took my hand to help me down after him.

Sitting on my bed, I waited for Mush to get ready. Since he woke up so late, by the time he left the washroom we were the only two newsies in the lodging house. He walked past me and grabbed his hat off his bunk. "So where'd ya learn how to write dat in Gaelic?" I asked, referring to the note he had given me the day before.

"Aw, if I tell ya, ya ain't gonna think it's romantic no more..." Mush replied. I smiled back at him. "Come on, please?" I asked. Mush sighed. "Ya know dat bookstore on da corner near Central Park?" I nodded. I was never in there before, but I passed it all the time while selling. "Dere's a woman who woiks in dere. She came from Ireland when she was little, jus' like you. She helped me wit it." Mush explained.

For once, I was the one blushing instead of him. We began heading for the door. "Oh! Shamrock... Wait up a second, I forgot somethin'..." Mush said, turning back towards his bunk. I watched him open the drawer beside his bed and fish around for something.

When he found it he walked over to me. I saw that he was holding the claddagh necklace. "Hold up your hair..." he said. I quickly gathered my hair and held it away from my back. Mush clasped the chain around my neck. I glanced down at the charm, holding it delicately between my fingers, and smiled. "Hey Shamrock...?" Mush whispered.

I looked up at him. "Don't try 'nd give it back dis time, okay?" He said, grinning. He put his hand up to the side of my face and his expression faded into seriousness again. "Dat way you always have proof dat I love you." He stared me confidently in the eyes when he said this.

My knees felt weak as I looked up at him, unable to break the gaze. I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed the distance between us. "I love ya too, Mush." I said, finally spilling out what I had meant to tell him for so long now.

Mush gave me a quick peck on the lips and pulled away far enough so he could lace his fingers with mine. "We gotta get goin'. If dey run outta papes we gotta wait until da afternoon edition comes out." He said. I agreed and reluctantly moved away from him.

The two of us rushed down the staircase, waving at Kloppman who was sweeping the lobby floor. "At least gettin' there last means dat da guys won't be there to torture us..." Mush added, jumping the last few steps.

"Oh, 'nd dat reminds me." Kloppman said, looking up and leaning his broom against the wall. He held up his pointer finger, indicating for us to wait a second. Kloppman walked to his desk and picked up a piece of paper, handing it to Mush.

"Racetrack left a note for ya, Mush. Said to give it to ya when ya finally came down." Kloppman handed him the message, which Mush stuck in his pocket after thanking Kloppman. "Now, getta move on, you two..." He warned.

On the way to the circulation desk, Mush pulled out the note and read it. His face turned a dark pink color. "He's so immature... I'se gonna kill him." Mush mumbled under his breath. "Lemme see what it says..." I said, reaching for the note. Mush crumpled it up and held it out of reach before I could grab it.

"Aw, come on!" I begged. Mush shook his head. "It's jus' Race tryin' to get on me nerves." He replied. He attempted to toss it in a nearby trash can, but I caught it in midair.

"Shamrock!" Mush laughed and tried to pry the note out of my hands. Turning my back towards him to keep him from getting the piece of paper, I quickly uncrumpled it and read it. In Racetrack's sloppy handwriting, a short message was scribbled across the paper.

"So whens the wedding?"

THE END


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